The Stargazer Chronicles: Volume One, Part One: Ambition
by Princepen
Summary: AU: The early adventures of Jean-Luc Picard on board the USS Stargazer. A young man struggles to obtain professional excellence at high personal cost to himself, while exploring dangerous unknowns.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **2343**

The younger man shoved his stocky frame into the chair as he'd done so many times before, and began his diatribe before the captain could even say "hello." "There's a rumor that he doesn't sleep, and I'm starting to believe it might be true."

Captain Gabriela Sarna laced her fingers together and brought them underneath her chin, facing her subordinate with practiced patience. "Commander, I don't expect my first officer to indulge in ship-wide rumors. And besides... if Picard isn't sleeping, somehow I think this ship might be better off for it." She glanced back at the reports she had been reviewing,before turning them over on the desk in front of her. She sighed. "What's on your mind, J.P.?"

Commander Jeffrey P. Hanson, first officer of the USS Stargazer pulled his chair closer, happy to finally have an audience for his frustrations. "At every turn, this kid is trying to upstage me, Captain-"

"How so?"

"Personnel concerns should be exclusively mine, sir..."

Captain Sarna shook her head slightly and got up from behind the desk. "Is this about those minimal personnel duties I delegated to Picard a month ago, J.P.? Because you're starting to sound like a jealous teenager. I won't have this kind of petty bickering on board my ship."

Commander Hanson continued, unabated. He'd been holding this in for so long, he wasn't about to stop now, unless ordered to. "He was _supposed_ to handle a two-person personnel transfer, and then ended up reorganizing the entire roster for engineering."

"And? Did he not do an efficient job of it?"

"It's not that..."

"Then, what exactly is it, Commander?" Sarna gestured at the work piled on her desk. "You can see I've got things to do. Not that I entirely mind being interrupted from my administrative duties...but really, this little competition between you and Picard needs to quiet down a bit."

Hanson took a deep breath before continuing. "He wants my job," he said quickly. Picard, who had transferred from the _USS Sentinel_ nine months earlier as a lieutenant, had already been promoted to Lieutenant Commander due to his heroics on an away team mission a few months ago. And still, Hansen, admittedly, perhaps unfairly, he had not assigned Picard an away team to lead. And he knew that Picard wasn't happy about that. Not that Picard ever seemed happy about anything.

Captain Sarna poured herself a glass of water, and then turned back to Hansen. "No he doesn't want your job, Commander...he wants mine," she said evenly. She sipped her water and looked down at Hansen with quiet amusement.

Hanson narrowed his eyes. "Captain, you don't sound the least bit concerned by that. Why?"

She sat down across from him again. "I was offered an admiralcy about a year ago, J.P., did you know that?"

The Stargazer's first officer sat back slowly, careful to keep his expression calm. Of course he'd known-not that Sarna had ever told him a thing about it. "I heard some rumors, Captain..."

"Well...let's just say that if it's ever offered to me again, I'll snatch it up in an instant." She smoothed the graying hair out of her eyes, revealing a thin but very visible scar extending from her hairline to the top of her cheekbone. A scar she never talked about. "I'm not saying I'm ready for a cushy desk job, Commander-I mean look at my ability to keep up with even the most minimal of reports. But I just...feel that my time as a captain is coming to an end. I'm ready for a new kind of leadership position. And...Perhaps there are officers on board who would be suitable to captain this vessel after I'm gone."

Hanson looked down. "And you think Picard should get the _Stargazer_? He's 26 years old...not even Kirk was that young! And he hasn't even led an away team yet."

"And who assigns the away teams around here, J.P.?"

Hanson remained silent, realizing that he had stepped into that one. Finally he spoke. "Point taken, Captain."

Captain Sarna nodded. She knew Hansen was a fair man, a good, even great officer. But he and Picard were both ambitious, and so far, had shown nothing but dislike for one another. "I know you needed to get that off of your chest, Commander. But you are the ranking officer, and I don't want to hear about this subject again. Understood?"

Hanson stood up. Sarna had listened, but from experience, he knew now that she was very serious about him dropping the subject. "Yes sir. Thank you for listening."

"Of course. Oh, and J.P...either step up your game professionally, or step out of Picard's way."

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Jean-Luc Picard was well aware of the rumors about him, some of which were true. The one about him never sleeping was only partially true. It was actually a point of pride for him to always be on the verge of wakefulness, forever ready to rush to the bridge or anywhere else that was needed. As his friend Alynna often said: sleep was for the unambitious. Yes, he had friends, it was just that none of them happened to be on board the Stargazer with him. And he liked it that way. He was solitary by nature, interested in people by necessity, more than anything else. He had a natural ability to determine just where an officer should be assigned-where they could do the most good for the whole crew. So far this approach to assignments of personnel hadn't won him any fans. For instance, he'd already split up three romantic couples who had been serving the same shifts together in Engineering. First officer, Commander Hanson had allowed the arrangement to continue for so long that the crewmen and women had begun to take for granted their roles to the extent that they could simply serve whenever they liked, whenever they felt most comfortable.

Perhaps Hanson had allowed this practice because his own wife served in the science division. Hanson had just turned thirty, and Picard was very aware of Hanson's restless ambitions, because he too had his own. Hanson wanted a captaincy, and with Captain Sarna poised to retire, he believed he was the rightful heir to lead the Stargazer. Except Starfleet didn't work that way. You had to earn your place, not simply inherit it. It wasn't quite that Picard felt he _should_ be Captain of the Stargazer, but deep in his heart he knew that someday he _would_ be. These internal sentiments embarrassed him to a degree, but also guided him. He believed he was destined for certain things, even though he would never discuss them aloud, even with those he trusted most.

At any rate, he had been dismayed to find that the crew was being utilized based on whim and emotional considerations...subjects that Picard found at best, irrelevant to the _Stargazer'_ s staffing needs. Captain Sarna had delegated the task to him, initially just to resolve the transfer of a disgruntled technician within engineering. But once he had looked further into the situation, he'd found it better to make larger changes throughout the Engineering division. He could tell that Commander Hanson was annoyed by his initiative, but then, Commander Hanson's feelings were hardly his problem, were they? Picard did have the capacity for compassion...for real concerns and troubles that is, not mere jealousy, which quite frankly, was all Hanson had shown him since he had transferred on board. Although he had been promoted just months earlier, he already felt frustrated and stagnant in his career.

Less than one year earlier, the Stargazer had been in need of newer personnel and apparently he had fit that description along with thirty other young officers from throughout the Fleet. Things had been going well enough for him on board the Sentinel, but in truth he didn't miss it. The Stargazer, which had been on border patrol duty near the Romulan Neutral Zone for years without a peep from the elusive Romulans, was now poised for a deep space journey that meant he would be part of the crew charting some of the still vast unexplored territories. It was what he had always wanted, and so he knew he should feel exhilarated. Yet something itched at the back of his mind. Earth. Home. He had always wanted to fly as far away from it as possible, and yet, something now tugged at him, and it wasn't pleasantly nostalgic. He had buried the feeling for months, but now six months after his father's funeral, and a brief visit to his family home, it had returned; guilt. His older brother Robert's last words to him didn't just sting...they gnawed at his insides. _"So our father is finally dead, Jean-Luc. But you have been dead to him for years. He told me so. How does that make you feel, you arrogant bastard? Please tell me you still have feelings, so that I can at least be happy that I have hurt them."_

He closed his eyes tightly, and sighed, rolling his shoulders back against the cold wall. The sweat from his workout was cooling on his skin, making his clothes stick to him uncomfortably. Tilting his head up toward the dimmed lights on the ceiling, he shifted his sneakers resulting in a loud squeak, which echoed through the empty gym. It was five in the morning, his favorite time to workout, because he could focus and be alone with his thoughts, preparing himself for the day. Smiling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny metallic pad. "Resume," he said in a quiet but commanding voice, and the tiny pad opened up, revealing images that allowed him just a few minutes a day of fantasy and intrigue. He felt his pulse begin to slow and his thoughts about his father departing for the back of his mind.

"Enjoying your solitary moments?"

His head whipped to the side at the sound of an intruder. Quickly slipping the holo device back into his pocket, he jumped to his feet. He hadn't heard the footsteps of the officer who had entered the gym, and silently cursed himself. He recognized her immediately, even though she was dressed in gym clothes, as she was the only Andorian officer on board, and only one of a few Andorians he had ever met. "Lieutenant Commander Zev," he said as professionally as possible, quickly composing himself.

"A holo toy,"she said slyly, as she stepped into the room. "The almighty Picard has a fondness for games. How cute."

He lifted his chin slightly. Not particularly tall himself, he usually found himself simultaneously intimidated by and attracted to tall women. He bent down to pick up the jump rope he had been using just minutes before, and then tucked it under his arm. "I was just leaving. The gym is yours," he said tightly.

Zev laughed and her antennae vibrated with apparent amusement at his expense. "The Almighty Picard...that is not your real nickname," she said. "I made that one up," she added with a calculating smile. "I'm not sure you want to hear the real ones that have been circulating around the ship...but on the other hand, you don't really seem the type who would care."

He shrugged. "I'm not," he said. "I mean I don't," he said distractedly. "Look...I'm done working out, so I will leave you to it," he said walking past her.

"What game were you playing just now?" she demanded, amusement still dominating her tone. But she was curious.

He halted and faced her again. "It wasn't a _game_. It was a holo-novel," he corrected her.

"Well, what was it about?"

His jaw tightened. "It's private."

Her antennae rotated toward him with interest, but her expression sobered. "Oh. Well, then I respect your privacy, Picard."

His eyebrows shot up, surprised that she had let him off the hook. "Thank you," he said genuinely.

She looked down at the jump rope under his arm. "Is that a weapon?"

"No," he said, recalling that Andorians were highly militaristic. "It's just for a cardiovascular workout. There isn't enough room to run on this ship, so I resort to this instead."

"Ah yes, your record shows you were a champion runner at the Academy." She broke into a broad smile. "We Andorians only run when there is no room to fight. Running as a sport is...odd."

"To each his...or her own," he said with forced patience, wondering just when he would have an opening to turn and leave again. Instead he hesitated. "Why were you studying my record?"

"You and I are the only two Lieutenant Commanders currently rotating on the Captain's bridge crew. And you know what that means."

He shook his head, even though he certainly had an idea what she was getting at.

"We Andorians detest dishonesty, Picard," she said, a slight warning in her voice.

"Then why don't you stop _implying_ , and say what you really mean?" he shot back.

Zev's antennae now pointed directly at him assertively. Something in her impossibly dark eyes seemed to spark. "You are my competition, Picard. Captain Sarna currently has no second officer. The rumor is that she is searching for one. Both of us excel at tactical and starship operations. You and I are the obvious choices."

Jean-Luc smiled knowingly. "If there is one thing I have learned about Captain Sarna, it is that she is anything but obvious," he said.

"At any rate, she may choose one of us for second officer, and so I propose we openly compete for this opportunity."

He ran a hand over his head. "No. My duties come first. The kind of competition you are proposing is unprofessional."

"Nonsense! You are afraid to lose, so you pretend you are uninterested. But I can sense we share a similar drive to better ourselves."

He straightened. "And what if we do? More importantly you are my colleague. As such, I would never do anything to undermine you."

"Good," she said. "I am the same way. But I need to know that you will try as hard as me to rise through the ranks on board this ship. That you will fight for what you want. We need strong leaders, Picard. And you are one."

He held her gaze a few more seconds without a word, before turning to go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Approaching checkpoint coordinates, Captain." Jean-Luc brought the ship to one quarter impulse power, ensuring with the forward sensor array that he had a clear path through the swirling nebula. Hidden inside the gaseous cloud he knew was a secret star base, small, efficient and used mostly for border surveillance. Captain Sarna remained silent behind him in the command center, a tactic she used both in negotiating with alien races and with her own crew. It was highly effective.

Sarna knew that her crew was well trained, and as such, she expected them to carry out their duties with minimal direction. Initially Picard had found her lack of guidance to be unnerving, but now he preferred it to Commander Hanson's contrasting style of barking out orders at every turn. Jean-Luc was a skilled pilot and tactical officer, and when required could man any station on the bridge with little to no intervention. He enjoyed the freedom Sarna allowed him and the rest of her crew. He would readily admit, if anyone had ever asked, that being on the bridge of a starship was one of the few places he had ever felt truly free.

He didn't bat an eye when the turbo lift swished and the new officers reporting for shift stepped one by one on the bridge. He knew every single one and where they would be stationed, and most of all he knew the sound of Hanson's heavy footsteps before he sat down with a sigh in his chair. He felt his neck muscles tense, as a young officer sat down near him at the navigation station. He had successfully avoided Lieutenant Amanda Eneko for nearly eight weeks, ever since they had returned from an icy uninhabited moon on an away team training mission. He glanced at her briefly, "Lieutenant," he said by way of greeting.

"Sir," she replied hoarsely, sliding into the seat at her post. Her hands moved over the controls, checking the sensors. "I hope you didn't take my message the wrong way, sir," she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

"Hm," he responded, keeping his focus on the control panel and the expanse out in front of the Stargazer.

"I know I said I wanted to take you to lunch, but I only meant to thank you for-for what happened on the mission."

He sighed inwardly. "Think nothing of it," he said quietly.

"That's the thing, though sir...I mean, I can't stop thinking about it," she said. "I've been having these awful dreams...have you?"

 _Yes_ , he said silently. He glanced at her again, and was concerned to see that her pallor was rather sickly looking, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her blond hair was somewhat unkempt and as if on cue, she coughed.

"Are you _ill_?" He turned in his seat to stare at her. Coughing was so rare and indicative of a serious illness that it immediately put him on edge.

" _Mister_ Picard," he heard Commander Hanson lean forward in his creaky chair. "Is there a problem?

Picard gritted his teeth, returning his attention to the panel. "No, sir."

Infuriatingly, Eneko continued to speak. "I haven't been feeling so well," she admitted. "I've had this damn cough for weeks. Can't get rid of it. My arm's okay though," she added. "It was only a mild dislocation, which was why I wanted to take you to lunch or something, just to thank you for keeping me from falling down that cavern. And then the way you found out a way for the rest of the team to escape...I mean, how did you program your tricorder to-"

"I was merely carrying out my duties," he murmured, cutting her off. "And you should go to sickbay."

"Oh, they said I was fine," she said. "Doctor Gavin gave me the all clear." She coughed again.

 _Perhaps we need a new Chief Medical Officer,_ he countered silently.

"Seriously, sir. The next time we take shore leave, I'd like to buy you a drink."

He smiled slightly at her persistence. "Oh, I don't go on shore leave unless ordered to," he said simply.

"Oh," she said, sounding crestfallen.

"Approaching to within docking distance, Captain," said Picard in a louder voice. "Full stop."

"Are we within transporter range of the base?" Captain Sarna finally spoke up.

"Affirmative."

"Good. Mister Picard, you're with me. Ensign Vigo, relieve Mister Picard at the helm."

Picard nearly leaped up from his station, but kept his composure. Captain Sarna had a meeting with command personnel on the base, and if he was to accompany her, he needed to keep his excitement under control. Perhaps he would be able to take the lead in a negotiation of some sort. He could feel the hostility pouring off Commander Hanson as he passed by, following the captain's lead. He thought he caught a glimpse of Zev winking at him from behind her tactical station.

* * *

"I have good news for you, Picard," Captain Sarna said once they were alone in the turbo lift. "Transporter room one," she said, and the lift began its descent.

Jean-Luc placed his hands behind his back as calmly as possible. "Yes sir?"

"You're going on shore leave...I have business down on the base, but I promised a friend I would deliver you for a two hour shore leave."

 _A friend?_ "But sir, I thought I could assist you with-"

"The meeting I have is a level three clearance only, Lieutenant Commander," she said facing him with a small smile. "So I am afraid that won't be possible. But you'll be happy to know that there is a nice, cozy bar up on the observation deck."

"Captain," protested Jean-Luc. "I'm not due for a shore leave anytime soon-"

"You are _overdue_ for a shore leave, Commander. Now are you going to make me order you to relax?"

"No sir," he said, unable to completely hide his disappointment.

The doors opened, and Sarna strode out ahead of him quickly, before slowing to look sideways at him. "Your dedication is admirable, Mister Picard. But take it from me...a day will come when you are in a position where you will _wish_ someone would order you for a mere two hour vacation. And you will no longer have that luxury. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," she said, walking quickly into the transporter room and up on to the transporter pad. He stepped up behind her, annoyed but keeping a placid facade. "Energize," she said.

* * *

Once they had entered the star base Captain Sarna left him in an empty hallway without another word. She was tense, he could tell. He tried to guess what their next orders would be, but he knew that was a silly game. He would learn in time. Meanwhile, with nothing else to do, he began to wonder if a drink would not be so bad after all. He made his way to the observation deck, and wandered into the crowded, but dimly lit bar.

Before he had made his way too far into the crowd, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "Jean-Luc! I knew you'd make it..."

He looked up and to the right to find the man responsible for his ending up here against his will. "Walker...what in the hell?"

Captain Walker Keel grabbed him around the shoulders and walked him further into the mass of people. "We heard you were promoted, and I've got good news as well...so before you disappear into the depths of space again, I asked Gabriela Sarna for a favor, so we could celebrate. It seems she didn't take no for an answer and somehow got you here."

"Walker, she's my captain, I didn't actually have a choice. Besides, Starfleet ordered the ship to this base-or did you arrange that as well?"

Keel merely laughed, and gestured towards someone at the bar, who waved back with a drink in his hand. Despite his annoyance, Jean-Luc smiled broadly. "Hello, Jack."

* * *

 **Hi everyone, and thanks for reviewing. I hope that you enjoy this story as it develops. Thanks -PP**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Captain Gabriela Sarna sat very still. Across the table from her was Fleet Admiral Yamato, who was as respected an officer as there was in the Fleet. Before she had been engaged in any battles herself as a young officer, nearly everything she had learned about tactical warfare, she had learned by studying him. Sarna knew she should be intimidated to a degree, but for the moment she was more concerned about the images displayed on the view screen. An amorphous pink cloud surrounded a small planet on the screen. Sarna was familiar with the planet and new it was supposed to be there, but the cloud was new. And yet she'd seen something very similar less than two months ago from the reports her away team had brought back to her from a training mission. "That's the planet Gallo, near Tholian Space. We have a small colony on Gallo. Could that be the same type of cloud we encountered down on the Namib moon?" she pondered quietly. "It's just one sector away."

"We think so, based on the reports from your crew. But after it achieved its aim, it abruptly left the colony, leaving everyone dead." He placed a report down in front of her and Sarna's gaze immediately caught on the grisly statistics.

"All 200 colonists...dead. But from what?"

"From the best we can tell, they died of something resembling what our ancestors used to refer to as...the common cold."

Sarna's dark eyes conveyed her immediate alarm. "What?" She looked at the holo vid again, studying the pink cloud more closely. "And you think this cloud is to blame?"

"Yes, we believe so. And we also believe it is a sentient being, capable of thought and reason, not just mindless destruction."

"And how do you know that?"

Yamato paused. "That's classified. According to your reports, a similar cloud temporarily froze some of your away team members while on a training mission down on the Namib moon. One of your officers used a tricorder to find the appropriate frequency to free them."

She nodded. "Picard."

"We think the cloud was attempting to communicate with your crew. If we can re-establish communications with this entity, we may be able to stop it and prevent further deaths."

"Admiral, our team was under immense pressure... Lieutenant Picard took emergency measures, but he told me he was just thinking on his feet. I doubt he could duplicate that again unless under the same conditions. And what if what he was doing harmed the cloud? What if we angered it and caused the deaths of the colonists?"

"Then all the more fitting that the Stargazer crew be the ones to finish this." Yamato pointed at Sarna. "You have a reputation for getting things done, Captain. I want you to get to the bottom of this, before any more lives are lost. If communication is impossible, or fails... you are ordered to take all appropriate steps necessary to stop this threat."

"With all due respect, Admiral, the Stargazer isn't the closest ship in the quadrant to this...tragic incident. We've been deployed to a deep space mission, not back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Nevertheless, you _will_ be delayed in your original mission, Captain Sarna. But you'll have help. Three specialists are waiting for you at the Vulcan Science Academy. After you departing Vulcan, you will backtrack to the moon orbiting the planet Namib and attempt to communicate with this life form. Your people encountered it once and survived. I have faith in you and your crew, Captain."

* * *

Jack spread his arms wide. "Jean-Luc, what a surprise," he shouted, looking unconvincingly shocked before grabbing Picard into a hug. The last time he'd seen Jack was a few months ago when Crusher had turned 21 years old. He'd only known Jack for about two years, ever since Walker had introduced them at an academy commencement ceremony, at which Jack had graduated from Starfleet Academy. But they had become such good friends already that it seemed like years had gone by. They had served together on board the USS Sentinel when Jack was a trainee and he a lieutenant.

When he had transferred to the Stargazer he felt an odd sense of relief as though his closeness to Jack was somehow a hindrance to maintaining his professional track. It wasn't that he thought Jack was somehow in the way of his career. Instead, he had truly connected with Jack, and yet he was unsure how to be friends with someone he would eventually have to command. It was almost easier to be the officer he believed he should be if he was not close to anyone he worked with. He hadn't mentioned this to Jack, and wasn't sure that he ever would. Still his friendship with Jack was very easy. It was the first relationship he'd had besides his mother that had ever been easy, and was the first time he had felt a kinship with another man that did not involve some kind of competition.

"Yes, what a surprise," Jean Luc laughed. "As though you had nothing whatsoever to do with bringing me here."

Jack pounded him on the shoulder exuberantly. "Oh come on it was Walker! It's always Walker," they both echoed at the same time. "I'm just here for the drinks," Jack added.

Picard laughed. "Right."

"Anyway..." Jack pointed proudly at his collar, lifting his chin. "I didn't want you to miss this."

Jean-Luc nodded with approval. "Lieutenant junior grade. Congratulations, Jack."

Jack shrugged, but his pride was obvious. "Looks like we're both moving up."

"I suppose so," Jean-Luc agreed.

"You should have seen the look on my dad's face when I told him-" Jack stopped abruptly in mid-sentence, remembering too late that Jean-Luc's father had passed away just months ago. "Sorry," he said quietly.

Picard sat down next to him at the bar. "Don't apologize, it's fine," he said as the bartender slid him a glass of something that was pale green. He took a long sip before setting the glass back down with a faraway expression on his face.

Eventually Walker broke the uncomfortable silence. At thirty-six Walker had been in Starfleet longer than Jean-Luc and Jack put together, and had readily accepted his role as the elder statesman of the trio. As such, he generously doled out advice, of which at least something was always helpful. "Captain Sarna's trying to teach you, Jean Luc. She's practically a legend. Do yourself a favor and learn from her. I know for a fact that she doesn't extend those benefits to just anyone."

"I listen very closely to whatever the captain says," he objected seriously. "I have the utmost respect for her."

"Then when she orders you on shore leave, think about what that really means. She's sees a kid on his way up, going down the wrong path-"

"Walker, given that you are the one who engineered this whole thing, you sound ridiculous," he retorted. He paused. "What path?"

"The path of all work and no play. Not a good path," warned Walker, before ordering another round of drinks.

"Were you always this way?" Jack was fixing him with an amused stare.

"What way?"

"The Picard way," Jack said before breaking into a fit of laughter.

"You're drunk already," Jean-Luc murmured, but smiled into his own glass. Jack had an infectious way of making everyone around him happy. They continued to talk for a long while after, during which, Jean-Luc reluctantly recounted the events that had led to his promotion, and Walker announced he was transferring out of active service and would be going to teach at Starfleet Academy.

Picard was shocked, but the only words he could manage were "Why, Walker?" He simply could not imagine why someone who was in a clear career upswing would elect not to command his own ship.

"You're a _captain_ ," Jack said, as though Walker might have forgotten this fact.

"And I'll retain my rank, I can assure you. Besides, with me nothing is ever permanent," he said cryptically.

"What are you going to be teaching?" Picard asked, glaring sideways at his friend.

Walker stretched out his long legs and spun lazily on the bar stool, watching his friends. "Intro to interstellar negotiation."

Jack coughed, and nearly spit a mouthful of some kind of alien ale onto the bar. "You're kidding," he exclaimed hoarsely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Picard swung his chair around and was watching Walker with growing suspicion. "Something's not right here...Jack, he's not telling us the whole story."

Walker threw up his hands. "This from a man who never tells his friends anything!"

Picard waved dismissively. "Don't try and make this about me."

"But that would be so much more fun," Walker declared.

"He's kind of right," Jack agreed, elbowing Jean-Luc.

Picard crossed his arms, still staring Walker down. Finally Walker rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You can't tell anyone else."

"Who are we going to tell? Your students?" Jack asked, choking on his drink again. Picard slapped him on the back, and not too gently.

Walker sighed and leaned in. "I'm going to work for Starfleet Intelligence. The teaching gig is real, but mostly a cover."

"And why would Starfleet Intel care about the Academy?" Picard demanded.

Walker's face now gave nothing away. "Who said they do? You didn't hear it from me. Look guys, I told you this, but I can't tell you anything more."

Picard shrugged. "Fine." Something inside of him felt disappointed and he didn't know why. At heart, he believed Walker was an explorer, like him...not a spy. Eventually he would come to his senses.

Walker watched Picard turn away, and he instantly felt rejected. It was an ability that Jean-Luc had to wound without even a word, and one that Walker was sure was unintentional. But it still hurt. Trying to lighten the mood, he put his palm on Jean-Luc's upper back. "I'm proud of you," he said impulsively. "Not just for getting promoted so soon, but for what you managed to do down in that cave."

Jean-Luc straightened and turned to look at him with a small smile. "Really?"

Walker squeezed his shoulder. "Yeah."

"Thank you," Picard said quietly.

"That girl's into you, I can tell," Jack blurted out, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Girl? Lieutenant Eneko?" A little while ago, he had been trying to tell them about what had happened on the bridge, before as usual they had strayed off topic. Something about his conversation with Amanda Eneko remained with him. She was ill, he was sure of it.

Jack laughed and glanced at Walker. "You see the way he plays innocent? It's all an act."

Jean-Luc eyed his friend. "Did you ever consider Jack, that if you don't stop referring to the women you're interested in as girls, you might never actually find a real one?"

"Well I'll be damned," said Walker, elbowing Jack. "He just gave you relationship advice."

Jack sobered, but there was still a mischievous glint in his eye. "Jean-Luc, when I do find a real woman, and someday I will...you're going to eat your words."

Jack stared him down teasingly for a few more seconds before Jean-Luc laughed and looked away.

"Anyway," Jack said, poking him in the arm. "I maintain...Lieutenant Eneko is into you."

Walker sighed. "Big deal. Women are into him most of the time, he's just not into them. It's the withholding, reserved demeanor they are drawn to. Let's face it, I'm drawn to him too-I confess."

"Me too," Jack admitted, winking at Jean-Luc. "But look I don't get it," he maintained with mock seriousness. "Explain this magnetism to me, Walker."

"Well...he's so focused on his career, that-"

"Spare me the psychoanalysis," Picard grumbled. "This is the actual reason why I spend most of my shore leaves in the gym or reading books."

Walker pointed at him. "You see? He just proved my point for me. _Wrong_ path."

Picard pushed himself up, realizing too late that the alcohol had affected his motor skills already. _How am I going to go back on duty half drunk?_ He leaned back against the bar for support while his friends looked on with amusement. "Lieutenant Eneko just wanted to thank me..."

Jack snorted, but Picard continued, ignoring him. "She wanted to thank me for doing my duty. It's just...well, it's unnecessary," he said slurring his words slightly.

"So why are you still talking about her?" Walker asked quizzically.

"I told you...she seemed quite ill."

"How so?"

"She was coughing-"

" _Coughing_?" Jack was horrified. "Did you know that in ancient times, like back in the 20th century, people used to die from just coughing? Why didn't you order her to sick bay?"

"Well I strongly suggested she go to sickbay..."

"Why don't you discuss it with her over a nice lunch in the mess hall?" Walker suggested sweetly.

"Look this isn't a laughing matter," Picard said more stridently. "What if she picked up some kind of illness when we were down on that moon?"

"Then guess what?" Walker patted him on the neck affectionately, causing him to sway slightly on his feet. "You're going to need to talk to Ms. Eneko again to make sure she's alright. Convince her to go back to sickbay."

"Personally, I hate sickbay," said Picard.

"We know," said Jack, but his gaze had drifted across the room. A young woman was talking with her friends, and Jack was now thoroughly distracted. He slapped his drink down and got up from his stool somewhat unsteadily. "If you will excuse me..."

Picard watched him sway a bit before heading off through the crowd to find love. He turned to Walker. "Well, now that Jack has other plans, I should really be heading back to the Stargazer."

Walker waved at a clock nearby. "You still have half an hour. Sit down, I have something else to tell you."

Picard sighed, and gestured for the bartender. "Water please."

A moment later, water in hand, he sat back down next to Walker. "What?"

"Huh?"

" _What_ were you going to tell me?"

Walker carefully watched him take a sip from his glass and then said, "Alynna broke up with me."

Jean-Luc jerked forward as water exploded from his mouth. A nearby patron got up from the bar abruptly, as Jean-Luc grabbed some napkins and began wiping the bar, all the while staring at Walker. "Broke up with you? Alynna Nechayev and you...were dating? I don't believe it."

Walker was genuinely hurt. "You don't believe she'd be interested in me?"

"No. I am shocked that she would be interested in anyone. Why did you even tell me?" He said, feeling slightly disturbed.

"You know...in case she says anything to you about it."

Picard stared at Walker as though he were insane. "Don't worry. We don't have that kind of relationship, Walker...very thankfully," he added. Laughing, he got to his feet again. "Look my friend, I do have to go. Thank you," he said offering his hand. Walker smiled, and shook it firmly. "Be careful out there, Jean-Luc."

* * *

 **Hello, thanks again for reading...-PP**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Not so fast, Mister Picard..."

The voice was firm but unhurried, as the speaker was used to being obeyed. Jean-Luc halted, feeling somewhat unsteady on his feet as the effects of the alcohol would last for a few more hours. His brief shore leave concluded, he was now aware that he was due to return to bridge duty. He had hoped to return to the Stargazer ahead of Captain Sarna, but it was apparently not to be.

He turned around, allowing the captain to catch up. She smiled slightly as she halted. He noticed not for the first time that her dark brown skin seemed mostly ageless. The graying hair near her temples was the only sign that she was nearing fifty-five years old. Her thick black hair was woven into a single braid which extended down to her shoulders. Sarna had a neat and clean style that appealed to Picard. To him she was the model of what a starship captain should be. Aloof most of the time, with brief flashes of compassion when necessary, and a sharp wit. Most of all Sarna seemed fearless, unafraid of any challenge that should cross her path. At least that was how she appeared to the crew.

They walked together and she gestured ahead of her into the turbo lift for him to step inside. "Transporter room."

As the lift began to ascend to the highest level of the star base, Picard straightened, trying to provide an appearance of the highest professional capability, which was quite the opposite of what he was actually feeling in that moment.

Sarna was watching him closely. "Halt," she said and the lift obliged abruptly. He felt his insides rise and then slosh back down in queasy slow motion. "What's on your mind, Mr. Picard?"

He felt his eyebrows twitch involuntarily. "Sir, I was just thinking about resuming my duties on the bridge." It was the truth of course.

Captain Sarna looked down at her boots, and seemed momentarily to be on the verge of laughing. But she quickly recovered her composure and faced him. "Lieutenant Commander, if you think I am going to let you fly my ship while intoxicated _..."_ Her amusement caused just the rare trace of an accent to break through and betray her Caribbean roots.

"But sir-"

"Your attention to duty is noted, Commander, but the only attention you owe right now is to your pillow. Now, you are to sleep this off, understood? I need my best officers ready for our next mission."

Picard leaned with some relief against the wall of the lift. "Yes sir. Understood." He straightened again, self-conscious about losing her respect. He resisted asking her about the orders for the mission. Of course, if she wanted to share it with him she would. It wasn't his place to disturb her thoughts, which he imagined were fixated on her next steps. But even as he politely averted his gaze, he realized that the turbo lift remained stalled. Glancing at the captain, he saw that she was again studying him.

"When we last saw each other, I gave you a bit of advice, Picard."

He nodded curtly. "Yes sir, you did," he agreed, ready to repeat her words back to her if necessary.

"I have something more to say. Perhaps it's been on my mind lately since your father passed away."

He watched her with rapt attention, but was distracted, wishing he could adjust his sweaty uniform which was now clinging uncomfortably between his shoulder blades. He didn't want to talk about his father. Not at all.

She held out her hand perfectly flat in the air, palm down, completely steady. "You see this? This is balance, Mr. Picard. Something you do not have...at least, not yet." She dropped her hand gracefully to her side.

He shook his head slightly. He didn't understand.

"I don't expect you to understand yet. But I expect you to listen. You consider yourself to be a man of principle...isn't that right Mr. Picard?"

He felt his face grow hot. "Yes," he admitted. Was she laughing at him? But he didn't see any mockery in her gaze.

"A great leader has to have more than just adherence to principle, Jean-Luc. He has to have the ability to connect to those he is charged with leading. Do you think you have that ability?"

Not knowing how to answer, he remained silent.

"I know your service record, Picard. I know that you made a choice once, as a young academy graduate. You chose friendship over principle, and it nearly cost you your life." She leveled her index finger at his chest, and his cardiac implant took an extra beat. "You can't see it yet, but you made the right decision that day. Near death experiences affect us all differently, Commander. For you, it made you retreat from friendship...from connection. Perhaps there were...are other factors I am not aware of, but as a result you now choose principle and protocol over friendship. But listen carefully...you need _both_ to succeed. And there will come a time when you will have to make that choice again. People like us Jean-Luc, we are decisive...accountable. But it also means that we must live with the consequences of our choices. That doesn't mean that you cannot and should not live a rich and full life. A great captain need not be a recluse." They studied each other for a few moments. "You don't believe me, do you?"

He shifted his stance. He had no idea why he felt so embarrassed. "It's not that I don't believe you sir...perhaps you are right, but-"

She pointed to the long thin scar on her cheek. "Mr. Picard, I may never tell you how I received this scar. I will tell you that it was well-deserved. But it is nothing in comparison to the invisible scars I received that day and still bear because I chose to elevate principle over friendship. I pray that you never experience the same kind of pain."

* * *

The dream always began the same.

 _"I'm not getting any more traces of palladium. Let's head back to the group."_

 _Lieutenant Amanda Eneko held up her hand, still focused on her tricorder. "Hold on, I'm getting something new here..."_

 _Despite the protective gear Lieutenant Picard was wearing, the humidity from the cave seemed to seep inside of his clothes. His helmet fogged up when he exhaled loudly conveying his exasperation with his colleagues. "Unless it's a new life form, Eneko, we need to head back to the group. That's the protocol, remember?"_

 _Suddenly she grabbed his forearm and shouted. "It is a life form! Look! Nothing is supposed to be in these caves, that's why they were chosen for this training."_

 _He paused. His innate curiosity was now conflicting with his awareness of the appropriate protocols. The chance to encounter new life and new civilizations was the primary reason he had entered Starfleet. He nodded quickly. "Fine, but then we need to rejoin the rest of the away team." He had been paired up with Eneko, one of ten other pairs of junior officers. At the shuttle landing area waited Commander Hanson, who of course was technically in charge, even though Picard noted that the first officer was merely supervising from a distance. The mission was not timed, but each pair was expected to thoroughly map and survey a section of a vast underground cave system. Picard and Eneko were effectively done with their main task, and so satisfying Amanda Eneko's curiosity required only a slight backtracking._

 _Hardly listening to him, Eneko hurried on in the direction her tricorder was now leading her with a steady beeping. Before he could catch up, she ducked into a small alcove. He had to duck, but scraped his temple on the rocky entrance in the process._

 _"It's in here!"_

 _"Shh..".he implored her before following her inside._

 _"Hanson to Picard." There was static over the channel, and Hanson's voice sounded choppy inside his helmet._

 _He turned away from Amanda briefly, stepping into a spot that seemed clear of the pink fog. "Picard here."_

 _"You and Eneko are to report to the eastern entrance of the cave and meet up with the other members of your team. Lieutenant Marx reported some difficulty moving through a pink colored fog of some sort. Are you experiencing anything similar?"_

 _"Negative, sir. The fog is here, but no difficulty with movement."_

 _"Good. Then move yourselves the hell out of there."_

 _"Aye sir. You_ _heard him, let's go," he said turning back to Amanda. He was immediately alarmed to see that Eneko was no longer visible, and even more bizarrely, the pink fog had thickened and moved away from him, settling in a minor chamber several meters away. His pulse began to thunder in his ears. "Eneko! Eneko...Amanda!"_

 _"Yeah! I'm in here!"_

 _"We have to get out of here," he shouted. "There's something about this cloud that's not right. Let's go while we can."_

 _"Okay, okay, let me just get my footing. There's a weird slippery film on the rocks in here."_

 _He slowed and peered through the fog, annoyed more than anything at this point. His irritation turned to relief when he spotted her. But then came the alarm again. She was standing staring down at her tricorder, but her helmet was missing._

 _Striding in now without hesitation, he grabbed her helmet from the floor of the cave and angrily waved it in her face. "What the hell are you doing? Put your damn helmet back on!"_

 _Eneko looked at him with a somewhat dazed expression and then took an awkward step backwards. Then she turned and took a few steps away. Before he could grab her, the entire lower half of her body disappeared with a slippery sound._

 _"Aah!" She shouted, kicking her legs in an attempt to gain a foothold on the rocky ledge from which she was now hanging precariously. Picard lunged face first onto the slippery surface of the cavern, skidding to the edge of the precipice and managing to grasp her forearm just above the elbow. Already he felt his grip begin to slip, but now had a hold of her arm with two hands. Use your training, Jean-Luc, he told himself._

 _"Lieutenant Marx to Lieutenant Eneko," came a voice from Eneko's abandoned helmet, which was lying uselessly on the floor behind them. "Marx to Eneko...we're pinned down somehow. We think it's this fog...transporter can't get a lock on us. What is your status? Repeat, what is your status?"_

 _Jean-Luc swung one of his legs over a sharp rock that jutted from the cave floor, and curled around it for leverage. The rock bit into his leg, but it was only the pain of potential failure that he could really feel. He gritted his teeth and pulled with all of his might. Eneko was staring down at the tricorder still clutched in her free hand._

 _"Let it go, goddamn it," Picard grunted, unable to catch a full breath due to the exertion. "Drop the tricorder!" Eneko came out of her daze then and he heard the tricorder fall, and bounce off of stone repeatedly on its way down, emphasizing the legitimate peril his colleague was in should he lose his grip. "Good, now reach up and grab the ledge with your other hand. You can do it."_

 _This is the way things had happened in reality, hadn't they? But as Eneko turned her head back to look up at him, it wasn't her face anymore. Instead, his father's stern expression, fixed in time and frozen in death, bore into him. Cold lips opened wordlessly, but he heard them clearly inside his mind. "Now I am dead and you must live with yourself."_

He sat up in bed and screamed himself into wakefulness, as he had many nights since he and Eneko had returned safely from their mission. The dream always ended the same.

* * *

 **Hello, and thanks as always for reading and following this story. Best, -PP**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **2328-Surface of "Luna" the Earth's Moon**

Ensign Walker Keel, two years out of the Academy and just beginning his career in Starfleet, was busy playing cards. His opponent was less practiced, but had a good feel for the game. For a five year old, that is.

"Walker?"

The preface of using his name, meant he would again be faced with the endless questions. Keel held back his smile.

"Yeah?"

"What is your _job_?" The question was incredulous, nearly an accusation, but with this one, he was used to brutal candor.

"To babysit you," he said slowly, before drawing a card from atop the overturned deck.

"No, I mean your _real_ job!" The little girl glared up at him with a natural intensity, her eyebrows knit together as she clutched her cards protectively.

"To babysit the project," he said, which in a way was true. The "project" they both very well knew, was Orpheus, a top secret science facility, in which they were currently sitting.

"I know that," she said confidently. She suddenly smiled, and hid her face part-way with the cards. At times like this, her complexity and intelligence shone through.

"And yet you asked me anyway!" Walker grinned back at her and leaned his head against the inner seal of the window he was sitting against. The cold from the bleak moonscape outside always seemed to work its way even inside the well-built science station. Behind them in the distance was Lunar One, the largest Lunar colony on the Moon, populated by some 30 million colonists. Out here in this deserted crater, they were so far away from everything that was interesting from Walker's point of view. The crater now housing the Orpheus science station was once home to the Orpheus Mining Colony, which, according to Starfleet lore, was abandoned and destroyed one hundred years earlier under mysterious circumstances. Walker glanced away from the card game, when he heard hurried footsteps. He peered sideways at a tall sandy haired, bearded man who was staring intently into some kind of microscope.

As usual, the man was not bothered by the commotion. Walker was young, but not naive enough to have missed that trouble seemed to be brewing over the last few weeks. He put his cards down quickly, and the little girl raised her orange eyebrows in a slightly offended manner, as she was the one who was used to declaring that the game was over-typically due to her boredom. He patted the child's knee lightly. "Bev," he said quietly, slipping off of his seat. "Stay here."

"Doctor Howard! There are only so many times you can storm away, when you don't like the answer you've been given."

A long-legged scientist with deep auburn hair entered the room at a brisk pace, immediately beckoning to her daughter. "Go to your father," she called over to the child, who quickly took her mother's direction and hopped down to race to her father. The bearded man looked up from his work with some irritation, but reached down to put a hand on young Beverly's shoulder. "Now what?" he demanded with quiet reserve, tightening his grip on his daughter protectively.

" _Now what_ ," said Doctor Isabel Howard, with her voice laced with sarcasm, "...is that Starfleet Intelligence is not listening to a word I have to say, which is nothing new, is it Paul?"

Her husband, Doctor Paul Howard shook his head mildly, seeing no point in echoing her words, as she knew where he stood. He agreed of course; Starfleet Intelligence was becoming increasingly controlling over the Orpheus Project, which was a long-held fear he was now seeing realized. And now, he feared, it would mean the end of their work in one way or another.

Her opponent, known only as Finnegan to everyone in this room, was the main point of contact from Starfleet Intelligence, and was as inflexible as Isabel Howard was stubborn. "Doctor, you might be lead scientist on this project, but the project's location was specifically selected by Starfleet."

"The continuation of our work is what is most important. Locations can be moved-"

"Not this one," Finnegan said shortly.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Commander Gabriela Sarna walked into the main lab, without any necessary announcements. She was the commanding officer for the Starfleet contingent currently providing security for the science station, and had made clear many times before without necessarily saying so, that she did not answer to anyone, including to Finnegan.

" _Finally_ , a voice of reason," Isabel Howard declared. "Commander," she said, turning to Sarna for an ally. "For exactly three weeks, I have been saying that we need to move the location of this project. There are plenty of other depopulated, barren craters on Luna. Because of Starfleet's insistence that we destroy our nanites after each experiment below the surface, we've pumped far too much gamma radiation into the area below the station, and do you know what that means, Commander Sarna?"

Commander Sarna glanced over at Walker Keel. If she was annoyed that her subordinate had been playing a game of rummy with the Howards' five year old daughter, she didn't let on. "The ground below the station is becoming unstable?" Sarna responded. She'd felt the tremors, just like everyone else on the station. She also knew Finnegan was glaring at her, but hardly cared. Although she had grown to like the Howard family, she wasn't particularly happy to be babysitting a science project when she could be commanding her own ship. If the location moved, perhaps she could secure a transfer.

"As we've all discussed," Finnegan reminded them. "The Orpheus Project will remain here until its completion."

"There's been a significant change in just the last week," Paul Howard said from his science station. "We may have reached the limit of what this area can take for nanite integration. My wife is in charge, and I agree with her. We need to move."

"I'll speak to Command," Sarna said, waving Walker Keel over. "If you're done with your leisure activities, Ensign, I have something I need you to do." Walker nodded, hurrying to her side.

Finnegan turned on her with quiet anger. "Commander Sarna, I need to meet with you immediately."

* * *

"There's been a report of another possible fissure on one of the base stabilizers, Keel," Commander Sarna said, once they had exited the laboratory. "Take a team and go check it out, then write me a report."

"Aye sir," Walker agreed, before striding away, excited for an end to his boredom.

"Commander Sarna," Finnegan said, his cold eyes glinting with anger. "Might I remind you of the limits to your authority where this project is concerned," he snapped.

"You might," she allowed. "But I know my assignment, Finnegan. And if I might remind you, you're not even remotely in my chain of command."

"I can make things easy or hard for you, Sarna. You're not here due to your good behavior, now are you?"

Sarna froze. "What's it to you?"

"I don't need you interfering in my control over this science station. The Howards believe their work is sacred, but its the location, not so much the work, that we care about."

"Who's we?"

" _We_ are people who, despite your penchant for disregarding orders, will determine whether you _ever_ get your own ship to command." He smiled at her. "Think about that next time before you go making promises to Doctor Howard that you can't keep."

* * *

 **Fifteen years later...**

 **2343 USS Stargazer-Captain's Ready Room**

"Good morning, Walker...two contacts from you in less than three days. To what do I owe this latest interruption?" Captain Sarna sipped black coffee while the younger man forced a smile from the computer screen. Now that they were of equal rank, all formality between them had completely ceased, and therefore it was immediately obvious to her that something was bothering Walker Keel. Now friends, he had once served with her many years ago, during a time in her life she sometimes wished she would be able to erase completely.

"Well it's not about Jean-Luc this time," he said, with a wry smile, and this one was more natural.

"Good. Because, even though I hardly know Picard, I can tell you that he does not want or need your advocacy."

"Ouch."

"Let's get down to business, Walker. This is official business, isn't it?"

"Yes, Gabriela. Official business...well, unofficially."

"Yes, what's with the secured channel?"

Walker leaned in tensely. "I needed to warn you without others knowing. But there's still only so much I can say."

Sarna put down her cup, and glanced at the clock impatiently. They were scheduled to arrive at Vulcan in 14 hours, but she needed a chance to brief her crew. "You're with Starfleet Intel, now...interesting choice by the way."

"You don't approve," he said mildly.

"Does it matter? We don't have to always agree on everything, Walker."

He laughed at the absurdity of that statement. "Right. Look, this is serious...Gabriela, I have reason to believe you are in grave danger."

"How so?"

"The Orpheus Project."

Sarna's hand twitched and nearly knocked her coffee off of her desk, but she grabbed the mug and held it tightly. A familiar feeling of dread now floated inside of her. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone who had anything to do with the project has been either disappearing or dying recently."

 _With so many dead already._ "Dying? Of what?"

He shook his head. "I can't say anymore. Just...watch your back."

She sighed. "I should say the same to you, Walker. If everyone affiliated with Orpheus is dying, you're at risk as well."

"I know."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **2343**

Stepping though the crowded mess hall, Jean Luc grabbed the breakfast tray, before realizing he didn't really need it. He typically ate sparingly in the mornings, and this morning, with his head aching, he had just a single orange and a cup of tea balanced on his tray. Only the ship's senior officers had food replicators available to them, which didn't bother him in the slightest, as replicator technology on the Stargazer was far from impressive. Even his tiny utilitarian apartment in San Francisco had a better replicator. Yes, eating in the mess hall usually interrupted his preferred solitude, but this morning he was there with a purpose. For once, he was there for the company. Aside from his recurring dream which at this point seemed more monotonous than terrifying, he'd also been thinking about finding Lieutenant Eneko, just to ensure once and for all that she reported to sick bay with her concerning symptoms. Something about the dream this time had stuck with him. He valued sound advice, and Walker had been right; he needed to make sure Eneko received treatment. Just as the citrus fruit threatened to roll off his tray and onto the floor, he caught sight of her. She had seen him as well, and was smiling uncertainly in his direction. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to her table. "May I?" he asked, by way of greeting.

She looked genuinely surprised, but beyond that, her pallor still looked sickly, and there were now dark circles around her eyes. "Sure, go ahead, sir."

He nodded and sat down, placing his tray down carefully in front of him.

"Is that your breakfast?" she asked with a skeptical expression.

"M-hm," he said, beginning to peel his orange, and holding a piece out to her. "Would you like some?"

She shook her head, still watching him intently. "I'm really surprised to see you here," she said. "I mean...sitting here with me." She coughed just then, and for a moment looked like she would have difficulty catching her breath. A moment later she seemed fine again.

He silently raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his tea. "I was concerned about you after seeing you on the bridge. Are you feeling any better?"

She shrugged. "A little. I don't know, I've been feeling so crummy for weeks now, it's hard to say." She looked away distractedly, and then watched him sip his drink. "What is that?"

"Tea."

"What kind?"

"Earl Grey."

"Earl Grey sounds like a person, not a type of tea."

Picard sighed and placed his mug down with a click. It wasn't nearly hot enough anyway. "Eneko..."

She smiled at him and insisted "Call me Amanda."

"I'd rather not," he admitted.

Her smile faded, but he pressed on. "Lieutenant, you should report to sickbay after breakfast. I _could_ order you there, you know." She looked down at the table, seemingly deep in thought. "It's occurred to me, that you might have picked up some kind of virus when we were in that cave. I can't think of a better explanation, can you?"

"That pink fog...could it have been something?"

"That is what I'm afraid of," said Jean-Luc. "In fact, I'm going to say something to the captain, when I see her next."

"You might be right sir...but still, sickbay already cleared me."

Picard shrugged and rubbed his eyes. Yawning over his tea, he pointed his index finger at her. "I want your assurance that you will go to sickbay within the hour."

She sat back, and her features softened. "Okay," she agreed. He nodded, satisfied, and started to gulp down the rest of his tea before she stopped him, by putting her hand on his. "Thank you, for caring enough to come and talk to me about this."

"It's nothing," he said withdrawing his hand quickly.

"Assuming I...assuming I'm not contagious, would you take me up on that dinner?"

Picard furrowed his brow. "Well, we've just shared a breakfast, haven't we," he said slowly, feeling certain that should be sufficient.

She laughed. "No, you showed up after I had already eaten my eggs and toast, and you ate an orange while we talked about my mystery illness. That's not a date."

"Oh...well, I don't intend to be rude, but..." He averted his eyes. With her light blonde hair and innocent features, Jean-Luc supposed Amanda Eneko was attractive enough, but she was not his type.

"But-you mean I'm not your type," she clarified.

It was his turn to laugh nervously. "Type? I don't have a type." His mind raced for a solution. _Tell her you have a rule._ "But I have a rule about dating my fellow officers," he said as confidently as possible.

"Rule? What rule?"

"The rule is that I _don't_ date my fellow officers," he said, wondering just how blunt he would actually need to be. "In any case...you are my subordinate now, Lieutenant. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"So are you saying, if you ever had a subordinate that you really liked, you still wouldn't break your rule?"

He crossed his arms. "That's right."

"But what if you fall in love someday?"

He made a face. How silly. "One has a _choice_ about such things," he said plainly.

She laughed and stomped her foot under the table. "Are you kidding me? You've never _been_ in love have you? It's not a choice!"

He blinked in irritation, and then got to his feet. "I have to be going soon," he said. "My bridge duty starts in a few minutes."

Amanda Eneko stared up at him, looking slightly mortified. "Look, sir, I didn't mean to cross a line. I can respect your rules." She stuck out her hand. "Friends?"

He smiled tightly and returned her handshake. "Colleagues," he corrected her firmly. Suddenly her grasp on his hand tightened, and she yanked backwards, her eyes rolling up in her head. Eneko's grip then loosened and she went sprawling backwards onto the floor before he could grab her. "Medic! I need a medic," he shouted, scrambling down to the floor beside her, as several officers rushed over. "Lieutenant...Lieutenant," he shouted, trying unsuccessfully to revive her. "Amanda..."

Sitting back on his heels as the medics began trying to stabilize her, Picard pulled his communicator from his pocket and flipped it open. "Sickbay, Lieutenant Eneko is experiencing some kind of seizure. I need an emergency transport to beam three from this location in three seconds," he said, quickly getting up and stepping out of the way after placing his communicator on her chest. He could still see Eneko convulsing as the transporter beam took her and the medical personnel away.

In shock, he ran a hand over his face. What had just happened? One moment she had seemed fine, and then she was having a medical crisis. Would she live? He turned to see a crowd of officers staring at him. A helpless rage filled him, and he stalked quickly out of the mess hall without a word to anyone. When he entered the corridor, a siren began to wail, and the lighting in the hallway turned a golden hue. " _Yellow alert,_ " announced the ship's computer. " _Hull integrity has been compromised._ "

The intercom snapped on, and Commander Hanson's rough tones echoed through the passageways. _"Lieutenant Commander Picard, you are to report to the bridge immediately."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Stepping onto the bridge, the yellow alert was now muted from the noise of the command center of the ship. His eyes shifted over the personnel, and rested on Captain Sarna, who was standing outside of her ready room door, arms crossed and staring at the forward view screen. Her look was one of only mild concern. There was a problem currently, but by her countenance he could see she was aware that solutions were not far away. No doubt whatever the ship was going through, she had seen something similar before. He was momentarily mesmerized by the image on the screen which showed a reddish haze.

Commander Hanson sat in the captain's chair, but had leaped from his seat before Picard could even get the words "reporting for duty, sir" out of his mouth, Hanson waved him over to tactical. Lieutenant Commander Zev looked at him pointedly, as she stepped away and moved to a science station. He could feel one of her antennae still fixed curiously in his general direction.

He obediently stepped to his post, and looked at the tactical read-outs on the screen. The sensor readings were skewed, and the ship was out of warp, drifting for the moment.

"Engines are offline," the helmsman shouted, confirming their predicament.

" _Theories_ , Mr. Picard," Hanson snapped, still glaring at him from the command center.

 _Ah...a test. Picard's_ adrenaline began to pump through his veins; irritated by the first officer yet invigorated by the challenge. The area of space around the Stargazer was soaked in high levels of electromagnetic radiation, the sensors were off...and the ship was drifting. Just moments before during his conversation with Amanda Eneko, he had been aware that the ship was traveling at warp speed. Once the yellow alert began to sound, he'd known that was no longer the case, but he had been so preoccupied with Lieutenant Eneko's distress, that it hadn't mattered. He shoved away the thought of the young woman writhing on some hospital bed in sickbay...or worse yet, it was possible, he told himself, trying to bring reality into the equation, that she may have died. Should he have done more to help her?

"Mr. Picard, did you hear me?" Hanson was nearly yelling now.

He straightened. "Sir. The ship was traveling at warp...the course taken was wrong...just off, and we strayed too close to some kind of solar event..."

There was a silence on the bridge. Had they all been discussing this very issue just prior to his arrival?

"And the sensors?"

"Sensors were interfered with due to the excess electromagnetic radiation, but the effect should wear off soon." But it's not...

"The course was wrong, you said," Hanson said, walking over to stand behind Picard.

"Aye, sir, it appears so."

"Check it."

He already had, but he checked again. "The course laid in does not quite match the course you ordered at 2300 hours, sir." _When I was sleeping off my brief shore leave. Which begs the question, why am I being interrogated about this?_

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Picard?"

"I responded to your summons, Commander," he said, eyes fixed on the readouts in front of him. There was still something wrong with the sensors. And radiation levels should not have been climbing. He divided his attention between listening to the rants of his commanding officer and making efforts to correct the issue with the Stargazer.

"Radiation levels increasing around the hull," he reported calmly.

"Theories on why we strayed from our course, Mr. Picard?" Hanson was walking away from him, back down to the command area.

"Navigational error, sir, is the most likely answer."

"You mean human error..."

Picard blinked, when he checked the log, realizing it was Lieutenant Amanda Eneko who had been at the helm when the course was plotted. She had been slightly off in her calculation and the result was that the ship had been endangered. Navigation prior to engaging warp drive had to be precise, as an error could be catastrophic. He realized now, that his training of bridge staff on helm and navigation was now being questioned by the first officer. His anger at Hanson's game pushed him to find a solution.

His hands flew over the tactical station, and as he backtracked the course the ship had taken, he came to a more solid conclusion. "Our ship was temporarily disabled when we passed too close to a pulsar, sir. Our warp engine filters are currently overloaded with radiation, which will prevent faster than light travel until we correct the problem. I recommend we flush the filters, so we can get propulsion back online and be on our way."

He caught Captain Sarna's gaze, and she allowed him a wry half smile before slapping the intercom button next to her ready room door. "Engineering, dump the radiation filters...I want us back to warp drive in ten minutes, and back on course to Vulcan."

"Aye Captain."

"Gentleman," Sarna called out to Hanson and Picard. "My ready room, please."

"Very clever," Zev whispered approvingly in his ear as she moved back to relieve him at tactical.

* * *

Picard marched in behind his superiors, and hoped that Captain Sarna would allow him a chance to calm down before asking him to speak. Looking at J.P. Hanson's smug face made his anger rise. But Captain Sarna waved at them both. "Feel free to speak candidly."

Despite himself, Jean-Luc took the offensive. "With all due respect, Commander, anyone on the bridge would have arrived at the same conclusions I did." To his surprise, Sarna gave a short laugh before walking over to the view port to stare outside into the darkness. The captain was contemplative, but as usual her personal thoughts were closely guarded.

"Yet you had me come up with a solution," Picard continued.

"I _ordered_ you to do so," snapped Hanson.

"Why?" Picard challenged.

"You train the flight crews around here, Picard, and so when they make an error that nearly send this ship into a star, you can damn well bet that I will hold you accountable."

Picard nodded slightly. "Understood sir."

Hanson watched him expectantly, waiting for more. "But...?"

Picard cleared his throat. "Have there been any other errors since I started training the crew six months ago?"

Hanson poked Picard in the chest. "You think this is about you? It's not."

Picard stepped back, feeling his face grow hot with anger and embarrassment. "Certainly not, sir-"

"There _have_ been other errors," Captain Sarna suddenly chimed in quietly. "Specifically made by one officer."

"Lieutenant Eneko?"

Sarna nodded. "We checked the logs. She's been off on her calculations during the last three weeks. No one caught it until now because we've simply been lucky. This was a close one, but it could have been much worse. You were right...we just skirted a system which is home to a very powerful pulsar. Knocked us right out of commission. The question is... why has Lieutenant Eneko been making these mistakes?"

Picard opened his mouth to tell her about Amanda Eneko's recent illness, when the intercom chimed.

 _"Engineering to Captain Sarna."_

"Sarna here. Go ahead."

 _"We've managed to expel any excess radiation, and all impulse engine and warp drive are back on."_

"Excellent." Sarna pressed the communication pad on the wall. "Helm, set a course for Vulcan. Warp seven."

" _Yes captain,"_ came the reply. " _We'll arrive at our destination in nine hours."_

When the Captain turned back to Jean-Luc, he had a sense that she intended to praise him, but due mostly to his growing guilt, he spoke first, and the words just came spilling out of him.

"Captain, Lieutenant Eneko was taken to sickbay just moments before I was called to the bridge. I witnessed her in some kind of...violent seizure. I tried to intervene, but the best I could do was to arrange for an emergency transport."

"What?" Hanson was again angry. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"I sent you a report sir," he offered. "On my way to the bridge. When I arrived here, there were other priorities."

Captain Sarna immediately touched the wall, linking to sickbay. "Sickbay, I need a status on Lieutenant Eneko's condition."

 _"Currently stable, Captain,"_ came the reply. _"She appears to have sustained some kind of neurological damage...from what, we don't know yet. She's under sedation for now."_

"Put her under quarantine, immediately," Sarna ordered, then cut the connection. When she turned back, her expression was very tense.

"The welfare of my crew is always my number one priority, Mr. Picard," the captain clarified firmly. "That includes the health of just one crew member."

Picard placed his hands behind his back. "Of course sir." He hadn't intended to insult her.

The first officer's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Just how long have you known about this, Picard?"

"Since last evening, sir. When Lieutenant Eneko and I were on duty together, she informed me that she had been cleared by sickbay after the away team training mission a few months ago, but that she continued to be ill."

"Ill?" asked the captain. "What were her symptoms last night?"

"She had a cough."

"And why didn't you order her to sickbay?"

"She said she'd been checked out...I now admit I made an incorrect judgment, sirs."

" _Your_ judgment? This the USS Stargazer, not the USS Picard," J.P. Hanson snapped.

Picard now had to keep his growing anger in check. "Sir," he merely acknowledged, staring ahead of him at the wall.

Hanson pointed at him. "On this ship we work as a team, Lieutenant Commander. You don't make unilateral decisions about anyone's health on this ship-including your own. That means the next time a crew member under your general supervision is ill, you order them to sickbay, and report it to me, personally. Understood?"

"Yes sir. But you should know that-"

"I _know_ just what happened, interrupted Hanson. "Your own aversion to going to sickbay caused you to hesitate to send Eneko there-"

Picard shook his head quizzically. "Aversion, sir?"

"That's enough," Captain Sarna said. She moved to sit behind her desk. "For the moment I'm betting that Eneko's errors were somehow illness related. I'll follow up with my CMO this afternoon on that point. The ship is back on course, and Lieutenant Eneko is stable for now, so we're done here. We'll reconvene in the conference room at noon for a mission briefing. Dismissed."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Lunar research base Orpheus: 2328**

Ensign Walker Keel was afraid of the dark. Yes, there were lights down on the moon's surface. And yes, he was trained to handle all kinds of precarious situations. But he was still anxious about his current assignment. The base now loomed above he and his colleague, and it threw strange shadows ahead of them on their path, as though challenging them to go farther. The walking wasn't too difficult, given that they had the benefit of the research station's artificial gravity field, which extended out for several hundred meters. Ensign Ariel Ramos scampered ahead of Keel down the crumbling slope, and Keel was happy to bring up the rear.

Slowing his pace, he looked up above him toward one of the outer station view ports. _Odds are I'm being watched._ Sure enough, a young face was pressed against the transparent window. He laughed and waved at young Beverly Howard, who in response, tapped on the window at him with a somewhat serious expression. There had been tension on the base lately-tension between her parents, and tension between her parents and Finnegan about the direction of the Orpheus Project. Like his young friend, Walker felt somewhat trapped in the middle, except unlike her, he had the freedom to leave the base for a few minutes, even if he couldn't exactly step out for some fresh air. But for the moment he was under orders to examine the base supports, which he knew Commander Sarna was concerned about. The strange quakes had been increasing during the last few weeks, and it had done nothing but increase the general anxiety on the base. He turned and gave the girl another little wave, only to find that she had disappeared from view.

"Ramos, hold on, a minute," he called out, stopping to scan one of the metallic base supports with his tricorder. He ran his gloved hand over the duranium surface, where a fissure was clearly visible. The ground suddenly rumbled under his feet. "You feel that? Another tremor," he said as Ramos came trudging back to stand next to him.

Ramos shook his head inside his too large helmet, and pointed at the support pylon. "No way it should be doing that, Walker...duranium doesn't just crack like that."

"I know it doesn't...but there isn't supposed to be seismic activity here either, Ari."

Ramos shrugged. "Just one more reason to pray for a speedy transfer out of here."

"Don't you want to know what's causing this?" Walker glanced up from studying his tricorder to find that Ramos has walked away down the slope again. This time he followed, more annoyed than anything. Then seeing that Ramos had discovered a large crack in the moon's surface farther into the crater, he began snapping holos of the area as fast as he could. There were cracks in the dusty surface everywhere below the station. "These aren't supposed to be here," he shouted into his radio.

Ramos, who was kneeling on the rocky ground facing away from him, suddenly stood up and turned back to look at Walker. The first thing Walker noticed was a pinkish haze inside of the officer's helmet. The next thing he noticed was that Ramos, who had been a young man just seconds ago, no longer appeared the same. Put simply he looked as though he had aged forty years in just moments.

"What the hell?"

Ramos, who seemed to at least sense that something was wrong, reached out for Walker. "What's happening? What's happening to me?"

Unable to summon an explanation, Walker shouted into his helmet. "This is Ensign Keel to Med Bay, I've got a medical emergency! Two to beam up." Ramos stumbled forward, falling into Keel's arms. To Walker's growing shock, the man was so light, he felt like just skin and bones, and to his horror he saw that in fact Ramos was withering away right before his eyes. When he materialized inside the tiny medical bay, he was still holding onto Ramos, and yet upon closer inspection, all that was apparently left of Ramos was an empty space suit, and a strange pink glow inside his helmet.

* * *

 **2343 USS Stargazer**

Jean-Luc walked quickly ahead of Commander Hanson, intending to head over to the operations station, but the first officer called after him. Feeling the eyes of his crewmen upon him, and his frustration exceeding even previous levels, he halted and turned around. "Yes, sir?"

J.P. Hanson waved his hand lazily toward the bridge exit. "You're officially off-duty, Picard."

"But sir, I'm scheduled for duty now—"

"You _were_ scheduled for duty. Now you're not. You may resume duty at the briefing in two hours. But first, I'd like a moment."

Jean-Luc felt his hands begin to tremble slightly as he walked slowly back towards Hanson, but he kept his expression as even as possible. In moments he always thought of his father's immovable features. Never letting anyone know what he was thinking, and never keeping anyone, it had always seemed, in his thoughts for long. It was simple. As far as Jean-Luc was concerned, Hanson was an insecure bully, and his rank did nothing to hide this. He stood silently in front of Hanson.

At least Hanson had enough decency to lower his voice. "You think I'm giving you a hard time because I enjoy it, don't you?"

Picard creased his brow, feeling it was wise to keep his thoughts to himself. Yet his hand absently flexed into a fist at his side.

"I'm doing this to help you, Picard," Hanson clarified. He crossed his arms, and fixed his gaze on Jean-Luc's. "You know, there _is_ such a thing as being promoted too soon."

 _He doesn't believe I deserved to be promoted. What a shock._

"My only concern is to do my duty, sir," he said quietly. "To the best of my ability."

Arms still crossed, Hanson smiled. "You sound like a recruiting vid for the Academy, Picard." Picard remained stoic. "What, no clever rejoinder? You didn't have a problem questioning my orders when we were in there with Captain Sarna. Let me ask you something…do you think Lieutenant Eneko did her duty to the best of her ability?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

" _Yes?"_

"Lieutenant Eneko has been _ill_ sir—"

"Lieutenant Eneko is a multi-lingual specialist—she is trained to study alien languages, not operate a starship."

He was surprised at that fact, and was embarrassed that he hadn't noted it before. "I can assure you that Lieutenant Eneko has been well-trained for bridge duty, sir."

"And you know this, because you trained her personally, is that correct?"

"Yes sir," he said confidently.

"Have you considered she doesn't have what it takes to make it on this bridge crew?"

"Lieutenant Eneko's skill set can be revisited as soon as she's fit for duty sir. You don't know for certain that her errors weren't related to her illness."

Hanson laughed. "I'm removing Eneko from bridge rotation, Lieutenant Commander. And as soon as she's well enough, I want _you_ to tell her."

With the slow burn of anger, Jean-Luc felt his jaw tighten almost painfully. "Aye sir."

"You're dismissed."

* * *

Zev stepped into the turbo lift behind him, and he was so preoccupied, he almost didn't notice.

"I know what you are thinking," said the Andorian.

He leaned against the railing. "So you're a mind reader," he said flatly.

"I don't need to be a Betazoid to see that Hanson does not like you. And you want to know why."

He glanced at her. "It doesn't matter. He's my commanding officer, that is all that needs to be said."

Zev nodded with approval. "You are much like me," she seemed pleased to note.

He could not help but smile. "Is that a good thing?"

"Of course!" She fell silent, watching him closely. "Why are we traveling to Vulcan?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. _She thinks Sarna actually told me something important._

"Speculate."

Picard crossed his arms. "Zev...in less than two hours, we'll know why we're going to Vulcan. I can wait for the briefing and so can you."

"My mother always told me, never trust a Vulcan..."

Picard rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. He'd always thought tensions between the Vulcans and Andorians were ancient history. "There is no room for that kind of bigotry in the Federation, Zev."

"I never said I believed my mother, Picard...but why Vulcan? Why go all the way back there when we should be heading out into deep space?"

"We'll see," he said simply.

"You have far more patience than me, Picard." Her antennae wiggled, perhaps unintentionally.

He laughed. "Gymnasium deck three."

"Going to watch your holo novels, Picard?"

"No," he said darkly. "I need to expend some energy."

"Because you are angry..."

"I didn't _say_ I was angry, Zev."

Zev's antennae seemed to be looking right at him. "I will accompany you to the gym then. I have something I think you will appreciate. Something much better than a holo novel."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **2328 Orpheus Station, Earth's Moon (Luna)**

Doctor Paul Howard began to methodically lock up his scientific equipment for the night. He had only picked up this habit over the last week, when he and Isabel had agreed to greater precautions. The increased presence of Starfleet Intelligence and its control over their work worried them both, to the extent that they were considering pulling out of the project altogether. At least, he was.

"We can always continue our work at an entirely different location, Isabel...outside of the Sol system and on our own terms."

His wife sipped from her coffee and stared at him silently. If he hadn't known her so well it might have been unnerving. She was as intense in moments like these, as she was funny in less stressful situations. He had always loved both sides of her, but recently the lighter moments had been far fewer. She had continued to fight it out with Finnegan who had finally and unexpectedly agreed to move the project only after stating that it would take another month to set up a work station in a crater just a few hundred kilometers away that even remotely met the needs of the Orpheus project. "We've won the battle," she said. "They said they would move us."

"Assuming Finnegan is telling the truth, it still won't be soon enough. You've been shouting for weeks about how the ground beneath us is destabilizing and how we're all at risk!"

"True," she conceded. "I believe we are."

"Then _why_ are you agreeing to their plan? Luna is not the only place to carry out our nanite work-"

"But it's the only place we have the freedom to accomplish what we need to!" Irritated by her own outburst, Doctor Howard carefully put her cup down and put her hands into her pockets, something she did when open to new ideas, but unlikely to change her mind. The hands in the pockets so often quickly transferred to crossed arms, conveying the subject of discussion was closed. Her husband knew it wouldn't be long now. "Paul, we've discussed this, honey...have you forgotten the hundreds of other sites we surveyed and researched before choosing this one?"

"No I haven't forgotten...but I also recall that after we narrowed our options down to five possible sites, Starfleet basically pulled rank on us and selected this one. There's something they're not telling us about this area. Something below the surface that is endangering not only this project, but our lives. We should have looked more closely at the history of this place and not been so damned greedy, Isabel. Have you ever wondered what they would have done if we'd said no-if we had pushed for a different site? I'll tell you-they would have pulled the plug on this project and we would have lost _all_ of our resources."

"Why speculate? We're here now. And you know as well as I do that if we stop now we will lose years of progress. By the time Beverly is our age, they won't be able to ignore the fact that these little robots are evolving...growing. This work is too important to stop now."

Paul rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Then we need to talk about sending Beverly away, because it's not safe to keep her here with us anymore. The work is important, but there is nothing more important to either of us than Beverly."

"Don't try and frighten me, Paul. Our child was born here on Luna...this is all she knows. Just a few more weeks and we can relocate."

"She'll be safer with my mother right now, and you know it."

"We're not sending her all the way to Arvada III, Paul. This is her home."

"So you're just going to unilaterally decide not to protect our daughter?"

She immediately stopped her pacing and faced him with a hard look. "Is that really what you think?"

"I think your desire to succeed with Orpheus is turning into an unhealthy fixation, Isabel. _That's_ what I think."

She was about to raise everything to another level when Paul gestured for her to stop. Beverly was standing in the doorway of the lab. How long she had been standing there was unclear, but she had an open look of concern etched in her young features. "Something is wrong in the med bay," she reported with surprising calm. "Walker is screaming."

Paul moved towards the exit, but Isabel grabbed Beverly and guided her back to her father. "I'll go," said Isabel. "Stay and protect your daughter."

* * *

 **Fifteen years later...**

 **USS Stargazer**

Picard followed Zev into the gymnasium. Several people were just leaving, and so once again they had the area to themselves. Zev walked over to her locker and pulled out two short staffs which appeared to be made of some kind of metal. Apparently engaging in some kind of Andorian martial art is what she believed would capture his attention enough to distract him from his recent confrontation with Hanson. Hanson was difficult, but try as he might, he could not stop thinking about Amanda Eneko. He told himself that as soon as they were finished with the mission to Vulcan, he would go and check in on her.

The American reached back into her locker with her long arms and pulled out a plain looking cube-shaped object.

He raised a disapproving eyebrow. "We're not supposed to use holo cubes outside of living quarters, Zev."

"Ha! Are you going to inform our superiors?" She seemed amused by that thought.

"No...but an officer such as you, who is so openly ambitious, should observe protocols more carefully."

"Oh? Just as you do? What about your private holo-novels?"

Picard wanted to argue that what he had been viewing wasn't exactly the same thing she was currently holding, but then she tossed one of the weapons at him. He caught it and then turned it over in his hands, curious to find it so lightweight.

"Besides," continued Zev, "I hear that Command is considering putting a holo-room on the next new model of starship, just to test it out."

He frowned. "For training purposes I hope?"

She leaned in. "No. For _fun_."

"Not a good idea," he said. "A crew would get soft with so much leisure time."

"I suppose you consider yourself the example to be followed, is that right, Picard?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps I do."

Her antennae stood up straight. "If I were human, I might call you arrogant. But I am pleased that you allow yourself to be honest with me, Picard. Relationships are built on honesty."

He whacked the metal baton in his palm then looked up at her. "Good relationships are...perhaps. Bad ones not so much."

"You sound as though you speak from experience. I find it hard to believe that you would tolerate anything less than honesty. Perhaps you are more Andorian than I thought."

"Much more than I thought as well." He laughed. "So...why are we here, Zev?"

She walked past him, and tapped him roughly on the shoulder. "To distract you, remember?" She tossed the holo cube on the deck and stepped on the top of it. The room immediately went dark, except for a bright red grid at floor level, cutting the room into four areas. He took a step backward, and his foot slipped. In an instant he had fallen to his chest on to the floor, which was cold and slightly damp .

"What the hell?" He carefully pushed himself back on all fours, able to see a cloud of his breath puff out as it crossed one of the lines in the grid. "Ice?"

"This is a game all young Andorians learn to play, called Kyr." She kicked a small glowing diamond shaped object into the center of the grid, where it hovered at knee height. "That is the kyr. It is sharp, so do not touch it with your bare hands."

He looked down at his bare hands. Zev had failed to conjure up any protective gloves. "And how the hell am I supposed to move on this holographic ice?"

"Do your best. On my world it is very cold and also very dark. Andor is covered in horrible ice. It is thoroughly depressing. But we like it that way."

He got to a standing position, now treading as carefully as possible. "So...what is the object of this game?"

"Stop me from getting the kyr to your side of the floor," she said over her shoulder, gesturing to the floating diamond ball. "And I will do the same to oppose you."

"That's it? Alright," he said leaning over with his hands on his knees, and feeling his feet slip out to the sides clumsily. He noted that Zev looked much steadier on her feet. "You're the expert," he said warily, once she reached her side of the field. "Any tips?"

"Breathe out when I hit you," she shouted from across the floor. "It won't hurt as much!"

* * *

About one hour later, Zev and Picard hobbled together out of the gym doors into the busy corridor. Zev had insisted that he lean on her, after she had given him a nasty crack on his ribs, and despite the pain he was in, he felt exihlerated. "Ow! Thank you," he said, still catching his breath. "I haven't laughed like that since..." He fell silent for a few moments. It was true he hadn't allowed himself to be truly happy for some time. It was a state of mind he had possessed even before his father had died six months ago, and he wasn't sure why. "Well it was a good game," he allowed, already feeling the positive energy beginning to subside.

Zev glanced down at him as the walked. She was limping slightly and had a small cut above one eye, but seemed unbothered. "It was very enjoyable. You played well for a novice."

"Yes, well let's just say Kyr is very similar to many sports human children play. With perhaps more sanctioned violence thrown in..."

"Did you play as a child, Picard?"

He let go of her waist and touched his sore ribs gingerly. "A bit," he admitted.

Zev resumed her tall, elegant stride. "My parents also passed to the next realm some time ago," she said.

He didn't know what to say, so he remained quiet. Learning that she had lost both her parents as well, didn't make him want to discuss the subject.

Suddenly she stopped him in his tracks by grabbing his arm firmly. "When others die and are no longer here, you must continue to live and be present in this world. You owe them that."

He shook his head, creasing his brow. "Of course I'll continue to live," he said, unsure of where this was going. "I have no intention of dying anytime soon."

She poked him in the chest. "There is more than one kind of death, Picard," she warned him. "I will see you at the briefing in twenty minutes."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **USS Stargazer 2343**

"The cloud is of unknown origin and composition." Captain Gabriela Sarna gestured toward the view screen from her seat at the head of the conference table. "But Command believes the cloud...or fog for lack of a better word, is the same substance our training team encountered on Namib One. Just days ago, this cloud killed the entire colony of 200 on Gallo, which is only a few parsecs away from where our people saw a similar entity on the Namib moon. All of you will comprise a second away team to the Namib moon in an attempt to prevent further deaths. The three officers we are scheduled to pick up at Vulcan will also accompany you. I may join you as well, but that is a decision I'll make later."

Picard glanced at Zev, who tipped her left antenna at him from down the table. Hanson sat directly across from him, and Lieutenant Marx, from the Namib away team, as well as the ship's chief doctor, Cynthia Gavin.

Hanson cleared his throat. "As the captain noted, the ultimate goal is to prevent this being from causing further violence. While we intend to discover its intent, we also need to be prepared to destroy it." I want everyone working together on this. Marx, Zev, you'll be working with me to find a way to neutralize the entity if communication fails." He clasped his hands in front of him, turning to Picard. "Picard, you'll begin working with Lieutenant Eneko immediately-"

Jean-Luc leaned forward. This was the first he had heard that Amanda Eneko was out of quarantine, let alone well enough to work on a project. "Has Lieutenant Eneko been cleared for duty, sir?"

Commander Hanson bristled at being questioned. "Picard..as we've discussed, Lieutenant Eneko is an expert linguist, and we need her skills on this one. Far more than we need her at the _helm_ ," he added with a tilt of his head.

The dig was so blatant that Picard could not resist pressing Hanson. "Excuse me sir, but do you intend to answer my question?"

The silence in the room was heavy and awkward. While it lasted. "You'll work with her _from her hospital bed_ if you have to," Hanson nearly shouted.

"Then she has not been cleared for duty...Commander when I ordered her emergency transport to sickbay, Eneko was convulsing, and completely incapacitated-"

Captain Sarna held up her hand, a simple but effective gesture which caused him to stop in mid-sentence. "That's enough," she said quietly. "Picard, your concern for your comrade is duly noted. But we need you both to develop a system of communicating with the fog. Eneko because of her multilingual expertise, and you because you managed to communicate with the entity before."

Picard wanted to shout to the whole room that anything he had done down in those caves had been pure luck, but he knew better. Pushing it with Hanson was one thing, but he had no intention of disrespecting Sarna.

"Together with the contingent from Vulcan, I am counting on you to find a way." Sarna glanced down the table looking for her CMO. "Doctor Gavin, could you enlighten us all as to Lieutenant Eneko's condition and the cause of her illness?"

Doctor Gavin, a statuesque, no-nonsense woman in her forties nodded curtly. "Lieutenant Eneko suffered a neurological incident caused by significant lack of blood flow to her brain. The short answer is that she suffered a stroke. The long answer is that I believe she has been suffering from a brain infection for some time now. And judging by the new scans I've run, I think she'd experienced similar episodes previously."

The Captain was incredulous. "Doctor, my understanding was that you cleared all members of the Namib away team after the training mission. So are you saying Eneko became infected on board the Stargazer?"

"It is highly likely that I missed something, Captain... if that's what you're implying."

Sarna folded her hands in front of her with practiced patience. Tension between Sarna and Gavin was typical of the two officers and had become somewhat of a mainstay at meetings like this, and everyone else knew to keep quiet. The Captain smiled tightly. "Doctor, why imply, when I can just come right out and say it; you made a mistake. Rare, but apparently possible. Now, I have to ask, how you propose to correct the situation?"

Gavin glanced around the table as if getting a head count. "For starters, I'll need to run scans on all the away team members again, but I ran a ship-wide decontamination sweep last night and found nothing suspicious."

Picard sighed inwardly. _I am going to be spending so much time in sickbay._

"Fine," said Sarna, but she hardly appeared satisfied with that argument. "Do you believe that Eneko could have contracted this infection from the fog?"

Doctor Gavin crossed her arms. "Yes, it's certainly possible, although without further study of this...fog entity we may not be able to pinpoint the source of her illness. She had reported coughing, and each of the 200 colonists showed signs of a bacterial respiratory infection, so of course I've been scouring the autopsy reports from the colonies. The strangest part about this so far is the immense variety of bacterial strains present among the colonists."

"You mean they all died from something different?" Hanson asked.

"It is possible, but it will take some additional time to review the records."

"Well if they died, does that mean Amanda's going to die too?"

Everyone turned to look at Lieutenant Marx who had been quiet until now.

Gavin frowned. "Not if I can help her, Lieutenant. I can assure you, we are doing everything we can."

Marx nodded, and to Picard the man seemed legitimately concerned for Eneko's welfare. Perhaps he and Eneko were friends; perhaps more. He realized that he had been absently staring at Marx while thinking about this, and that Marx was staring back at him. The man's hostility was clear. Picard averted his gaze, more concerned about their upcoming mission than this man's emotional weakness.

"Who exactly are we picking up from Vulcan, Captain?" Zev asked, breaking the silence.

"Lieutenant Leland Mackenzie, a linguist who has been stationed on Vulcan for the last two years, Lieutenant Commander T'Pel of Starfleet's science division, and Tanek, a Vulcan exo-biologist affiliated with the Vulcan Science Academy. Mackenzie and Tanek are special assignments for this mission only...T'Pel will be joining us more permanently on the Stargazer as our new science officer."

Picard saw Zev's antennae flatten very briefly against the top of her head before springing back to normal. _She's worried about her career track again. Worried she will be bypassed by a Vulcan._ As he considered it, he realized he too was worried about losing the race to be the Stargazer's second officer. This T'Pel person might present additional competition, but he tried to shake the thought from his mind. He felt Commander Hanson's gaze on him, and immediately regretted that he turned his head to meet the first officer's calculating smile.

"We're due to arrive at Vulcan in a few minutes," the captain was saying. "You all have your assignments. Carry on," she said, getting up from her seat.

* * *

Picard and Zev exited the conference room together, both concerned about the same topic. They carefully avoided Captain Sarna and Doctor Gavin, who were continuing to argue quietly near the doorway.

"Are you telling the truth that you have never heard of T'Pel," Zev was pressing him.

"Yes! I've never heard of her."

"Well perhaps because she is not a human, any news about her was outside your sphere of interest."

Picard sighed. "Please, enlighten me..."

"T'Pel graduated at the top of her class from the Vulcan Science Academy just three cycles ago. She has advanced in rank faster than anyone in the recorded history of Starfleet. She is by all accounts a genius, but Starfleet was only her second choice."

"Oh?"

"It is well known that she three times attempted and failed the Kolinahr."

"I've heard of Kolinahr, it's some kind of Vulcan test."

"Oh, Picard, you are going to need to learn all you can about Vulcans. You have to know your opponent."

"T'Pel isn't my opponent, and she's not yours either. We haven't even met her."

"The Kolinahr is a series of rituals during which a few Vulcans, by embracing pure logic, renounce all emotion and live a monastic life. T'Pel was unable to do this...therefore she has a weakness to be exploited."

"Keep your voice down," he muttered as Hanson walked by. "Look Zev, I'll admit I am impressed how well you've done your research, but I don't see why you are so worried about T'Pel."

Zev flushed dark blue. "Worried? I am not worried-"

"Excuse me," Picard and Zev suspended their argument and turned to find Lieutenant Marx standing there with an intense expression on his face.

"Yes Lieutenant?"

Marx crossed his arms. "Can we drop our ranks for just a minute? I need to talk to you, man to man."

Picard glanced at Zev, hardly believing that this man was posturing in such an archaic way. "Yes," he said.

"That whole exchange in there between you and Commander Hanson-what was that?"

Picard frowned in confusion. "A disagreement?"

"You were acting like you were concerned about Amanda, but it seemed like it was more about preserving your ego."

"My ego...listen Marx, I don't know you any better than you know me, but I'll have you know that I _am_ concerned about Lieutenant Eneko."

"Not concerned enough to visit her in the hospital."

"I'm on my way there now," he said guardedly.

"Only because you were assigned to work with her. You should have seen the look on your face when Hanson gave you the news."

Picard glanced at Zev, feeling himself becoming angry. Then mercifully a reliable coolness saved him. "I see what this about, Marx. Your emotions have gotten the better of you. I've heard that can happen. However, I am not so easily provoked. I think we're done here," he said moving past the man.

"Where are you going?" Zev called after him.

"Sickbay. I have work to do."

* * *

 **Orpheus Base 2328**

"One second Ari was walking and talking normally, and then he just...aged 100 years in a matter of seconds. I had us beamed back here, and then I-I looked inside his suit, and it was empty." Walker Keel sat on a bench in the med bay, still holding onto his helmet tightly as he recounted the incident leading to his partner's death.

Standing next to Walker, the doctor held the empty space suit in his hands and extended it toward Finnegan. "You said you wanted this...? It's nothing but an empty suit. No trace of Ensign Ramos at all."

Finnegan took the suit in his gloved hands and shoved it wordlessly into a large bag. He turned to walk away, but Walker jumped up and grabbed his elbow. "Hey where are you going with that? This is evidence!"

"Evidence of what, Ensign?"

Walker shook his helmet in Finnegan's face. "A man just died out there and it wasn't any damn accident. Something killed him."

"An unfortunate event," said Finnegan, now headed for the door, but he slowed when Commander Sarna walked into the room.

"What's going on in here? I was just accosted by a five year-old girl who told me I was needed in sickbay." She absorbed Keel's harried expression, and tensed, surveying the room with her gaze. "Where's Ensign Ramos?"

"Dead," Walker said, his lips now trembling with anger.

" _What?_ " She looked at the doctor. "Is this true?"

The doctor was hesitant. "I can't confirm that. Keel says he disappeared-"

"No, no no, that's not what I said," Walker shouted in frustration. "Something out there killed Ari, and _he's_ trying to cover it up!" This time he nearly flung his helmet at the intelligence officer.

"Stand down, Keel," Sarna ordered firmly. "Before you do something you'll regret. Now...what happened? And why didn't you contact me sooner?"

Walker took a step back, still watching Finnegan, who was completely calm. In fact, there was a bizarrely satisfied expression on his face. "Sir, the channel was secured when I contacted sickbay for the beam over. I had no idea you couldn't hear me."

Sarna stepped assertively toward Finnegan. "Did you tamper with our communications array? You do realize that what you just did is a violation of Starfleet regulations?" Finnegan just stared back at her smugly. "I think you have forgotten that I am the officer in charge of securing this project, Finnegan."

"Not anymore," said Finnegan as he fished a data pad out of his pocket. It had an Intel insignia, and some very fine print that neither Walker nor Sarna was inclined to read at that moment. "As of ten minutes ago this project and station were taken over by Starfleet Intelligence, which, as far as you're concerned, means me."

Making a decision, Walker quickly started to explain what had happened, but Finnegan now held a phaser in his hand. "Stop right there, Keel. You are not authorized to tell her what happened any more than she is authorized to listen to your story."

"Put that weapon away," snapped Commander Sarna. "Or I promise you, that you will come to soon regret it."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes."

Finnegan slowly lowered the phaser, and put it back in his pocket. "Threats won't work against me, Gabriela. Don't forget, I know your history, and therefore I have the leverage. Listen carefully, both of you: In two weeks we will move all personnel and equipment off of this station and close down the Orpheus project."

" _What?"_ Doctor Howard stood in the doorway, looking more furious than surprised at the scene before her. "Finnegan, we had a deal."

"You're making deals with civilians now, Finnegan?" Sarna questioned. She turned to Doctor Howard. "Isabel, I don't know what you agreed to with him, but he can't be trusted."

"Look who's talking," Finnegan laughed. "Anyway, Doctor, the decision's already been made."

"You said the project would be relocated in one month. You can't just shut us down!" Howard tried to push past Sarna, who grabbed hold of her protectively. "He's armed," she whispered. Isabel gradually stopped her forward motion, but was still livid.

"I can," Finnegan replied. He pointed at Walker. "Now.. _.you_ are going up to the administrative office and write an official report of what happened out there on the moon's surface. Except in this version, you went alone. In fact all records of Ari Ramos are being erased from our records as we speak." He handed Sarna the data pad. She stood there for a few moments reading the same line over and over. _Orpheus Project a success. Wrap up in two weeks or immediately following positive specimen identification/retrieval. J.S._

Walker stood very still, waiting for direction from Sarna. She finished reading and slowly looked up at him. "Do as he says, Ensign."

* * *

 **Hi! Thanks for reading this story...-PP**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Orpheus Project 2328**

Commander Sarna leaned back and yawned, stretching her arms over her head. _What I really need is a structural engineer to tell me what I can already see with my own eyes. You're in denial, Sarna...time to make a decision._ She had been studying diagnostic visuals of the station for hours now. Her professional conclusion was that none of it was good. Whatever she decided could mean the end of the project, and would surely end her career, wouldn't it? And yet if she made the correct decision, the ethical decision, it would save lives.

Her career was over anyway. Her transfer to the moon had been not only a punishment, but a source of amusement to her former colleagues. Even her marriage was now all but destroyed. Of course, she was only beginning to take responsibility for that failure. Once the pride of a nameless Starfleet Intelligence special operations division, hidden from the rest of the Fleet and decent society, she had developed a reputation that had caused some of her colleagues to fear her, and just as many others to hate her. But all of that power had been extinguished one day, when she was ordered to do something that violated a system of personal morality she wasn't even aware that she had. And she had refused to carry out that order. Certainly her father had not anticipated this change in her. He had anticipated that she would follow orders unquestioningly, as she had done every other time.

In response, he had eliminated her position as an Intelligence officer, and arranged for her transfer to the Orpheus Project, what she had thought was merely a dead end assignment. It was to make a point; her father was always making a point.

Her refusal to follow orders had landed her here as a glorified security officer. At first humiliated, she had initially believed her former colleague Finnegan, whose treachery she knew too well, had been placed there to keep tabs on her, but Finnegan's interest in what the scientists were studying was now bordering on obsession. Clearly Starfleet Intel was very interested, and the incident in sickbay had been very revealing. Once she had read the initials "J.S" on Finnegan's data pad in sickbay just hours ago, she knew that John Sarna, her father was in fact, the real head of the Orpheus Project. It was unclear to her just how aware the greater body of Starfleet Intelligence might have been of her father's control over his agents, including herself. It was unlikely they were aware of anything he had done. But for now and for a long time, he had wielded absolute power.

And now by having Finnegan expose her to John Sarna's involvement in Orpheus, meant her father expected her to try and redeem herself by doing whatever she could to ensure the project's survival. Isabel and Paul Howard had no idea the danger they were in, and just how disposable they were considered to be. She knew that Finnegan would approach her soon, and with an ultimatum. How she chose to respond would be crucial. The Orpheus project was not about nanites, but about catching some kind of elusive, dangerous creature. The creature that had made Ensign Ari Ramos disappear.

Hearing footsteps, she turned her head slightly, now always on edge. She relaxed slightly when she identified the person approaching was Ensign Walker Keel. It was impossible even for Sarna, who enjoyed the company of so few people, not to like Keel. She glanced up at the tall young man with his soft wavy blond hair and smiled slightly. _The Golden Boy returns._ Sarna then returned to reviewing the screen silently.

Walker hesitated in the doorway. His anxiety was palpable. "Commander, I need to talk with you. We need _to do_ something."

Sarna swiveled her chair around to face the young man. "Finish your report, Keel?"

Walker clenched his jaw angrily. "I didn't want to write that report, Commander. Not the way I was ordered to."

"Sometimes we have to carry out orders we don't like, Keel," she said quietly.

"Orders I don't like are one thing...being asked to _lie_ when I know Ari was killed by something out there-"

"Ensign, why did you come to see me?"

"We have to shut this project down," he insisted. "Before someone else is killed."

She regarded him silently, before pointing to the computer screen. "I've been studying the vids you sent back from your moonwalk and the damage to the main support pylons extend beneath the surface. Each time we experience another tremor from beneath the station, more fissures appear. We're getting a tremor now every few hours."

"Finnegan said two weeks. We're never going to last another two weeks," Walker said, running his hands through his hair.

"We'll be lucky if we last two days, before this whole station goes tumbling down," said Sarna slowly.

"Surely this guy Finnegan can see reason!"

She looked up at him intently. "Not a chance. This thing is bigger than you and me. Listen Keel, this could mean your career...and depending on what happens, I may not be able to protect you. Understand?"

He nodded and swallowed, feeling the air in the room suddenly devoid of all moisture. "Okay...I mean, yes sir."

"We're going to do this my way, and we're going to get everyone out of this station safely. Everyone except for Finnegan."

* * *

 **USS Stargazer 2343**

When Jean-Luc walked in to sickbay, he certainly did not expect to see Amanda Eneko. Based on his argument with Commander Hanson, he assumed that she would still be in a recovery room of some kind. He beckoned to a passing nurse. "Excuse me, could you direct me to Lieutenant Eneko's room?"

The nurse looked like she was about to respond, but then hesitated, seeing Doctor Gavin's approach. The CMO nodded curtly at Picard. "I'll take you to her."

Gavin took a chart from the nurse and tucked it under her arm with one smooth motion, waving Picard to walk beside her.

"I don't suppose it is worth it to mention your overdue physical, Mr. Picard," she said, walking just slightly faster than him. Her height was a factor, but either way, she began to pull ahead of him as they left main sickbay and headed down a long white hallway. Picking up his pace, but careful not to seem too hurried, he noticed, and not for the first time, that she was very attractive with long brown hair the color of honey. For some reason, he found himself particularly drawn to her British accent. Just one more reason to stay away from sickbay, given his track record with women.

"Well...sir-"

"Call me doctor, I'm not even close to being the military type, Mr. Picard."

"Starfleet isn't a military organization, Doctor, we are primarily-"

"Explorers? You sound like one of those holo-recruiters. We could argue this point all day, Picard. But I'd much rather get back to my earlier point...your physical."

"My medical records were transferred ahead of time," he insisted. "I had...believed that since it's been less than one year since my last physical on board the...that I could...that I could-"

"That you could _skip_ it, Picard?" She slowed and he detected amusement in her gaze as she looked over at him. "For future reference, each transfer to a new ship brings a new set of medical clearances which Starfleet expects me to follow to the letter. That means a new physical for every new officer."

"I see," he said flatly as they stopped next to a large white door, displaying the warning: " **Caution Bio-hazard** ". A blinking red light indicated it was a secured room. He glanced around, hoping to see some kind of protective suits for their immediate use. There were none.

Seemingly oblivious to his safety concerns, Doctor Gavin smiled and faced him, still going on about the bloody physical. "The requirement has been waived for the next four months. Lucky for you, Captain Sarna has a soft spot for you."

He blushed, which only increased his embarrassment. "Oh, I don't think so, Doctor..."

Gavin leaned in as if sharing a secret. "Trust me, Picard...she does."

He scratched the top of his head. "Doctor Gavin, I am perfectly willing to report for a physica-it's just that-"

"Oh, so willing all of a sudden? Now now...Gabby Sarna doesn't just hand out favors, Picard. Consider yourself lucky. I am perfectly willing to wait another four months if you are."

 _Gabby?_

Dr. Gavin seemed well aware of his surprise. She crossed her arms as though ready to lecture him. "Captain Sarna and I have a history, so please excuse the familiarity. I've known Gabriela Sarna for over twenty years. I know her better than anyone else alive, and she is still a mystery. But knowing her as I do, I think it is rather significant that she has taken an interest in you and your career. As a matter of fact, I think she has something to prove to herself."

"Prove...? Sir-I mean, Doctor I don't understand."

"I'm afraid that's all I can say for now, Commander. But just be aware that now that you've captured the Captain's interest, you must be careful not to disappoint her. She loses interest in people rather quickly." Dr. Gavin's mouth grew hard as if an unpleasant memory occurred to her, as she turned away to open the door.

* * *

There was the sound of an unbuckling and a hiss, and the door swung open. Gavin walked in ahead of Picard, and his eyes immediately struggled to adjust to the lower light levels.

The room was large, and separated into two main compartments; one for monitoring quarantined patients, the other for housing them. A nurse nodded at Gavin and Picard from a nearby medical station. "No changes, Doctor," the nurse reported to Doctor Gavin, before returning his attention to his instruments. Gavin strolled over to look at the read outs and shook her head, looking confounded. "She's not improving," she said just loud enough for Picard to hear.

Jean-Luc tried to mask his shock as he walked slowly toward the transparent partition. Lieutenant Eneko was sitting on a hospital bed leaning back against a white wall, apparently asleep. A data pad sat in her lap, and her skin was a deadly pale. Every item and furnishing inside her room was white, and he wondered if there was an actual reason for this aesthetic. Certainly it was no comfort to him, and he doubted it was any better for Eneko. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again. He stifled a feeling of pity, for Eneko was alive, if not well. She was in good medical hands, it seemed. But how was he to accomplish anything working with a quarantined and ill officer.

Gavin approached to stand beside him. "She can't hear us." The doctor pointed to a small communication station pushed up against the barrier. Nearby was a chair and a plain desk with a single data pad and stylus. "When you need to communicate with her, just activate this station and she'll be able to freely communicate with you...depending on how she is feeling."

Picard eyed the CMO with open irritation. "Doctor, these kinds of working conditions..."

Gavin shook her head. "It wasn't my decision, Lieutenant Commander. If it was up to me, do you think I would allow my patient to participate in this assignment? I will be brutally honest with you, Picard...I have no idea if Eneko is going to survive." She put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder before moving away. "Just do your best."

* * *

Captain Sarna waited patiently as the transporter beams solidified into humanoid shapes. Next to her stood Lieutenant Commander Zev, a perceptive and notably ambitious Andorian. She'd given Zev the responsibility for orienting the newcomers, in particular T'Pel, who would be staying on board, if all went well. Her first impression of Leland Mackenzie was that he was short, good looking in an overly tidy sort of way, and seemed very impressed with himself. T'Pel and Tanek, both tall and slender, glanced around with typical Vulcan calm and poise before stepping down from the platform.

"We come to serve," said T'Pel, extending her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute with a slight bow of her head.

Captain Sarna returned the salute easily. "Your service honors us."

Tanek remained staring straight ahead, with an expression of total disinterest. "Where are our accommodations?"

Sarna glanced at Zev, whose antennae were twitching rapidly. "Deck 8 near the officers quarters. Lieutenant Commander Zev will show you the way."

"We are quite capable of navigating a turbo lift on our own," said Tanek.

"Congratulations," said the Captain icily.

"If it's all the same to you, Captain, I'd like to get started working right away," said Leland Mackenzie. "My quarters can wait."

Sarna smiled thinly. _A couple of go-getters._ "First things first Lieutenant...please go with Lieutenant Commander Zev."

She watched them all walk away before she departed for the bridge.

* * *

 **A few minutes later...**

Doctor Gavin's sincerely concerned face appeared on the small view screen in the Captain's ready room.

Sarna frowned. "Yes?"

"It's about the autopsy reports Captain."

"What about them? I trust your judgment, Doctor Gavin-"

"No, it's not that. Have you looked at the list of the deceased colonists?"

"Not very closely..."

"Well...you need to. But I ask that you not overreact."

Sarna's eyebrows lifted. "About _what_? And what exactly do you expect I'll do?"

"I don't know," Gavin admitted slowly. "But just...well I know you aren't interested in discussing the past...,"

Sarna watched the doctor quizzically through the view screen. "You're correct about that, doctor."

"I just want you to consider that it might just be coincidence...it might not really be who you think it is."

"It's not like you to be so circumspect, Cynthia," the Captain said, tapping her index finger on the table.

Cynthia Gavin's response sounded somewhat defiant. "You forget how much I've learned from you."

* * *

The list of 200 colonists was not arranged alphabetically, but instead by time of death, and beyond that they were grouped by cause of death. Cynthia had not been exaggerating about the wide variety of illnesses by which these people had expired. By all accounts, these diseases were preventable, so what had happened? According to Command, a cloud entity had killed these people. But both the motive and the method were unclear. She continued to scroll down the list carefully before her eye caught on something. _"Finnegan, Gerard J. -Missing."_ All other one hundred ninety-nine bodies were accounted for except for Gerard J. Finnegan.

Captain Sarna pushed herself to her feet, almost afraid that her feet would be frozen in place. Finnegan...missing. Why had he even been present on that colony? She began to pace her office, before stopping next to a communications terminal. She typed in a code on a secure channel and waited for several minutes while the screen remained black. Finally the screen blinked, and a familiar face with graying hair was staring back at her. "Y _ou don't look very happy to see me_ ," said Walker.

"Keel...when you said that all of the people from the Orpheus project were dying, who exactly did you mean?"

" _I don't know if we should be talking about this, Captain-"_

Sarna slammed her fist down on the desk beside the computer. "It's a secure channel Walker. Now, why the hell didn't you tell me that Finnegan was involved in this?"

 _"A few weeks ago, doctor Chandler...you remember him as the medic attached to the Orpheus project-he was found dead."_

"What from?"

" _Appears to be foul play,"_ said Walker.

"And you knew about Finnegan?"

" _We knew he was missing-"_

"Not just missing, Walker. He is the _only_ person listed as missing from the colony, and everyone else is dead. Now what's going on here? He's still one of yours isn't he?"

 _"Finnegan's considered a rogue agent now, and very dangerous...assuming he is still alive."_ Walker rubbed the bridge of his nose. " _Gabriela...I was going to warn you."_

"About Finnegan?" She slumped forward in her chair for a moment before looking up at him sharply. "I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance."

" _You tried._ "

"You have _no_ idea. If I'd been quicker...smarter, the Howards would still be alive."

" _There's no use in re-hashing the past."_

"You sound like Cynthia...she told me not to over-react."

" _She's right, Gabby, you know she is. And I think that she still loves you._ "

Sarna sighed. "She was right to leave me fifteen years ago. And that's all I will say, my marriage is long over and the matter is closed."

 _"But-"_

"Walker...all I want to know right now is where Finnegan is."

" _Why? So you can kill him? You're a Starfleet Captain, and these are far different circumstances...you can't act on that instinct for revenge no matter how strong it is."_

"You don't know where he is, do you?"

 _"We know he's somehow tied to this cloud...but we need to learn more and fast."_

Sarna rubbed her eyes. "Walker...is this cloud the entity you encountered on Luna? I need to know the truth. I'm sending my people to try and capture this thing, including your good friend Picard. I can't afford to lose anyone else."

 _"Did you already have a fatality from this thing?"_

"A young woman picked up some kind of illness down on that training mission. Whatever it is, she can't shake it. Sickbay is at a loss."

 _"We can't be sure, but yes, we think that this cloud is the same entity we encountered during Orpheus."_

"What the hell is it?"

 _"Again, we can't be sure about that either. But it's incredibly powerful. Gabby, you have to promise me that you'll be careful."_

"Could you be more specific? We're not headed to a party, Walker."

" _I think Finnegan is trying to tie up any loose ends related to Orpheus, and that includes you."_

"You think he wants me dead? Because the feeling is mutual."

 _"I think that if he is still alive, yes, he will try and find you. And I suspect that where the cloud is, he won't be far behind."_

Sarna steepled her fingers in front of her, attempting to calm her racing mind. Suddenly a dark back door opened in her mind, and a memory came back to her, of a young child trying to hide from a fiery blaze. She blinked and focused on her friend, here in the present. Still, she heard herself ask: "Walker, how is the girl?"

Walker paused and then broke into a slow smile. Gabriela had never directly asked him this question before. " _Well, for starters, she's not a little girl anymore. She's just turned twenty years old and she's studying to be a doctor."_

"Is she good?"

" _Good? She's brilliant."_

Sarna smiled. "But is she happy?"

" _She is driven, and for now that makes her very happy."_

"Does she...does she remember any of it?"

" _If she does, she's never said a word about it."_

"She must remember. She still has you. How could she forget?"

 _"Would you like to meet her after all this is over? I could arrange it, no problem."_

Sarna sobered. "No. There's no need."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

J.P. Hanson gripped the back of the chair so tightly that when he let go, there were noticeable fingerprints left behind. Trying to strike a more professional stance, he lowered his voice, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Captain, if this lunatic is on the run and out to kill you, what is Command doing to protect you?"

Captain Sarna sipped her tea and turned to look out of the window of her ready room. "Your concern is duly noted, Commander. But this is my business."

Hanson lowered his heavy-set frame into the chair across from his commanding officer. "Respectfully, Captain...it's not just your business. Starfleet regulations require that the first officer on a starship ensure the well-being of the Captain at all times."

Sarna's eyes narrowed almost playfully. "Do you have a direct quote from those regs you're citing to, Hanson?"

Hanson already red face darkened. "It's uh..."

"I'm not familiar with that section," she said, now smiling slyly. When he fumbled for his datapad, she held up her hand. "But I understand your concerns. If Finnegan is out for revenge, I am at risk. I won't deny that. Which means this ship and crew are also at risk, and I can't allow that. I know Finnegan...I know what he's capable of."

Hanson clasped his hands together. "How do you know him, sir?"

"I'm not a liberty to say," she said slowly, looking at him over her teacup.

Hanson's intensity never seemed to ebb. "And why would he want revenge?"

Sarna put her cup down. "I'm not at liberty to divulge that either."

"But sir-"  
"We're not going to play this game, Commander." Sarna suddenly stood gracefully to her feet. "I'll give you what you want; the ability to manage my security during this mission _only_."

"So you'll agree not to join the away team on the Namib moon?" he pressed.

"I'll think about it..."

Hanson nodded, seemingly satisfied for the moment. "Thank you, sir." He glanced at the clock. "I'll need to go and check on Picard and Eneko's progress."

Sarna smiled. "If you want to take on my personal security as your pet project, Hanson, you're going to have to give something up."

"Sir?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Commander. Are you confident you can organize this away team and also ensure my protection from Finnegan?"

"Well, if you'd give me some more information to work from, Captain..."

"That wasn't my question. You know what you need to do."

Hanson did indeed. Or at least, he knew what Sarna wanted him to do. "I assigned Picard a specific task. To just throw him into commanding the away team-"

"Jeff, I know you don't like Picard. But let's not let our personal feelings interfere with our duties."

"Aye, sir." Hanson took a deep breath, and it almost hurt him to force the words out. "Picard is mission commander effective now. I'll notify the team."

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Jean-Luc Picard tended to tap his foot when he was in need of expelling excess energy but was required to sit still in the course of his duties. He'd been tapping his foot for hours now and still felt restless. The muscle stiffness from his holo game with Zev was beginning to turn painful. He poured the last of the tea from the pot sitting on his makeshift work area. His posture was horrible, and as a result, his back ached as he leaned toward the protective glass. "I didn't see any particular pattern," he insisted once again.

"Then how did you know how to use your tricorder to disrupt the fog's hold on the away team, sir? I don't get it." Despite her mystery illness, Lieutenant Amanda Eneko was persistent.

"I suppose I guessed to a degree. I ran several quick scans and found that the fog seemed to consist of a strong electromagnetic field, which I assumed had made it difficult for the rest of the away team to leave their position. So...I emitted a series of short electrical pulses from my tricorder in the hopes that it would disrupt the electromagnetic wavelength enough for them to escape."

"That was really brilliant sir," said Eneko, getting up from her bed slowly and walking over to the barrier. She sat down in a chair that had been placed there for her. "It worked, we escaped."

Jean-Luc who was in prime physical condition should have had more energy than his ill companion, but for some reason, he felt incredibly tired. He sat back and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, but I think we both know that it shouldn't have worked...at least not in the way that it did. So, the question remains, why did it? Tricorders are mostly for analysis, so there was only so much it could have accomplished down in the caves. It didn't have the technology to do what I wanted it to," he admitted. "And yet it did," he muttered under his breath.

Amanda leaned her head tiredly against the glass, and he yawned, feeling his own fatigue creeping in. Suddenly his ailing colleague sat up straight, looking re-energized. Not expecting this, he watched her with rapt attention. "Your tricorder analyzed the cloud's pattern..."

"Yes?" he prompted when she trailed off.

"So, all we have to do is recreate visually what the tricorder recorded."

"In holo format?"

"Yep."

He groaned inwardly at the idea of such tedium. Well, at least he'd have a chance to stretch his legs for a bit, while he traveled to his quarters to locate his tricorder. "Why?"

"Maybe it manifested as some kind of language we might be able to translate," she said.

"What if it didn't?"

"Well...we won't know until we analyze the information... I mean, that's why we're on this project, right?" she said.

He put his hands over his eyes for a few moments before getting to his feet. "That is why you are on this project, Eneko... you're a linguist." _And I'm here because I'm on the first officer's permanent bad side._ "Lieutenant, let's take a break and get some rest."

"Sir I'm really fine," Amanda insisted unconvincingly. "I can keep going."

"You'll rest and that's an order," he snapped, not immediately realizing his tone was too strident. "We'll reconvene in four hours and then we will discuss the best way to implement your idea." He observed her pale features work their way into a smile. He was about to ask how she was feeling when the contamination alarm began to wail.

* * *

The room was flooded with blue light as three individuals marched right into the room unannounced and uninvited. Picard was immediately on guard. "What the _hell?_ You can't just stroll in here, this is a quarantined area!" The most slender of the three stepped towards him, and he knew immediately who it was, as Zev had attempted to thoroughly prepare him for this inevitable meeting. He had pretended to ignore the Andorian's long list of information she had dug up on T'Pel, or as Zev now openly referred to as: "our competition". In fact, he had listened carefully. He wanted to move up in his position on this ship, as did Zev, and Zev was right; the Vulcan scientist had a good chance of stealing the second officer spot right from under their noses. One item that Zev's meticulous research had neglected to mention was that Lieutenant Commander T'Pel was stunningly beautiful. He supposed that it wasn't entirely relevant to whether or not she would become the Stargazer's next second officer, but still, he was taken off guard. Her eyes were like pools of dark mystery, and her skin had a glow as though she had spent years living outside under a warm sun. He remembered Zev's explanation of T'Pel's experience with the Kolinahr and wondered if that was in fact close to the truth. T'Pel's hair was typically black but was longer than that of most Vulcan women he'd met, and it was arranged in an intricate bun at the back of her head.

The tall Vulcan woman was peering at him and appeared to be questioning if she had the right person. "We were ordered to report to the commanding officer of the Namib away team."

Picard blinked, realizing that he had been staring vacantly. _Wonderful first impression, Jean-Luc._ "The commanding officer of this project is Commander Hanson," said Picard stiffly. He looked past T'Pel at a Vulcan male, who was, of course, Tanek, the exo-biologist, and a shorter human male, who must have been Lieutenant Leland Mackenzie. Mackenzie looked vaguely familiar, but Picard's annoyance at their intrusion had not abated.

"That's funny because Commander Hanson said the same thing about you," Mackenzie said almost flippantly.

Tanek tilted his angular features down toward Picard. "Inter-officer communications on board this vessel are clearly inadequate."

"Are you the commanding officer of the Namib away team, or not?" T'Pel questioned.

Picard whipped out his datapad and surveyed it quickly, before putting it back in his pocket. Sure enough, the order was there. What had happened to have inspired this change? And of course, he had been the last to know. Hanson had managed to embarrass him while at the same time giving him what he had wanted; command of an away team. "I am," he said succinctly. Suddenly, his confidence returned. "And you must be Lieutenant Commander T'Pel, Mr. Tanek, and Lieutenant Mackenzie." He stuck out his hand to shake each officer's hand before gesturing behind him. "May I introduce Lieutenant Amanda Eneko." Eneko attempted to put on a brave face and waved at the newcomers. "Lieutenant Eneko and I have been working out a way to decipher the data retrieved from the cloud. We were just breaking when you came in." He put his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. "In the future, you'll observe proper decontamination protocols before entering quarantine," he said shortly.

"Perhaps you should clarify these protocols with Chief Medical Officer Gavin," said T'Pel. "It was she who permitted us to enter. If I recall correctly, she said, 'go right ahead'..."

"Your recollection is correct," offered Tanek.

 _Of course, it is._ Picard tightened his jaw but forced out a smile as a concession. "Very well then. We'll arrive at Namib in approximately 20 hours. I'll expect all three of you to read the mission briefing prepared by Commander Hanson, and await further orders." He glanced at Mackenzie, who he understood was an accomplished linguist. Part of him wanted to cease his work with Eneko in sickbay, but he knew that his participation was still needed. "Mackenzie, you'll join me and Eneko back here at 1600 hours."

Leland Mackenzie broke into a broad smile. "Yes, sir." Picard frowned, as the feeling of recognition passed again. Shrugging inwardly, he stepped out of the room without another word.

* * *

 **2328**

 **Orpheus Base-Luna**

 _Danger. Evacuate to the northeast passage A-12 immediately. Danger._

The rumbling continued to grow louder, and the reverberations throughout the station became more frequent. Isabel Howard grabbed a countertop for support as the flooring shook again under her feet. "Where is she, Paul?" she shouted as her husband rushed into the lab. The anxiety on his face was exactly how she felt. Where was their daughter? Where was Beverly? "This place is falling apart!"

"I-I couldn't find her anywhere. I'll go back and re-trace my steps, I just needed to see if she came back here."

Isabel grabbed both sides of her face and shut her eyes. "No. She's not here either. I even tried the utility tunnel where she sometimes likes to sit and read." _I never should have placed my family in danger. I put my work ahead of my child, and now what?_ Isabel began to rush past Paul to the door. "I'll go and find her."

Suddenly, Commander Sarna stepped into the room. She was holding a phaser tightly in one hand, and her dark brown skin was covered in perspiration. "You'll do no such damn thing, Doctor Howard. You were supposed to begin evacuation with the other personnel twenty minutes ago."

"I have to go and find my daughter," Isabel demanded, trying to push Sarna out of the way. Tears burned in her eyes. "She's probably in the lower levels."

Gabriela Sarna wiped her brow. The lower levels were on fire, but she wasn't about to say so and escalate emotions even further. "She must be hiding, then. I'll find her...I promise."

Paul Howard advanced on her. "Listen, if you think we're just going to sit here and wait while you look for our daughter-"

Sarna leveled her phaser at both of them. "You're going to evacuate with the rest of the personnel. Ensign Keel is organizing the rovers to get us all the hell off of this base. Take the northeast corridor. I'll find Beverly." She waved her phaser at them. "Go. Now!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Jean-Luc stepped into his quarters with every intention of leaving again, as soon as possible. He didn't recognize the concept of downtime. Most of the time he was on duty, and once he was off, he spent most of that time either reading or exercising, and he saw both tasks as necessary to remain sharp while on duty. He'd spent his youth reading the classics, and now he spent most of his time memorizing the operations manuals for the _Stargazer_. Was it exciting? No, but he honestly believed that the tedium prepared him for the excitement that was to come. He had worked hard to get to this place in his life, and at the heart of that work had been the recognition that he might have to sacrifice everything to obtain what he wanted.

Annoyed, he found that he had messages. One, to his surprise, was from Earth. Reluctantly, he touched the screen. It was a hang-up from Robert, forty minutes ago. He sighed. He could always ignore the call, which is what he wanted to do. He was as adept at avoidance in his personal life as he was unhesitatingly direct in his professional duties. So, he _could_ ignore the call. But he knew that tactic would only serve to feed into his older brother's darkest view of him. Instead, with a sigh, he flopped down in a chair and placed a subspace call back to Robert.

Robert didn't take long to answer. No doubt he'd been ruminating next to his comm channel just as Jean-Luc had been. "Well," said Robert gruffly. "To what do I owe this unprecedented and unsolicited call?"

Jean-Luc was immediately defensive. " _Unsolicited?_ You called me! I'm just calling you back. Or was this just a test?"

"Perhaps I wondered if you had the fortitude to face me, little brother."

"I always have. Even when you acted the bully."

"Revisionist history..."

"Why did you call _me_ , Robert?"

"I've met someone..." Something in Robert's usually cold blue eyes looked nearly happy. Still, Jean-Luc couldn't bring himself to dive into a discussion about his older brother's romantic life. It would merely remind him that he didn't have one.

"Someone?" he prompted.

Robert's displeasure with Jean-Luc's false naivete was clear. "I've met a woman, you dolt! Her name is Marie...and she's beautiful."

"I see. Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose."

"You _suppose_? You can save your empty congratulations, Jean-Luc, I don't need them."

"As you wish."

Robert stuck out his chin, as though preparing himself for the argument to escalate. "In any case, now that I've found Marie, I have been thinking of other plans-I want you to know that I am growing tired of the vineyard. In fact, I've considered transferring it to the town for safe keeping."

He wasn't surprised to hear this, as Robert had made this empty threat before. Jean-Luc shook his head firmly. "You cannot do that without my permission. Our father willed it to both of us equally."

"And yet, only one of us does any work to care for the property or to maintain it as it should be. I'm only one man, Jean-Luc."

Jean-Luc rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Just use robotics, Robert, they will do the bulk of the harvesting work for you."

"You never had any true love for the vineyard did you?" Robert accused, nearly shouting now. "Our family home and livelihood means so little to you, doesn't it? Besides, Papa would never have approved of robotics, you know that!"

Jean-Luc raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What did he _ever_ approve of?"

"He approved of responsible men...men who valued a family name, a family business-"

"So _you_ , then?" Jean-Luc stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. "I don't have to listen to this, Robert. I heard enough of it growing up. I know that our father didn't approve of my choices, but he's dead now. And as much as you'd seem to like to take his place, I don't have to answer to you."

"Still an arrogant little bastard-"

" _Little?_ Not anymore, Robert. You may shout insults all you want, I'm not giving up my share of the vineyard-"

"And so it's my lot to languish here on Earth while you fulfill your destiny, traveling around the galaxy?"

"I never said that, Robert. Do what you want with your life, just don't try and transfer the vineyard. I won't allow it."

On the other end, Robert suddenly hunched forward and his eyes grew cloudy. His thin lips quivered with the effort of hanging on to his composure. "I miss him, Jean-Luc." The usually stoic older brother turned his face away from the screen, and the pain was evident on his face. Robert had always been close to their father. Robert's emotions were understandable, but Jean-Luc struggled to relate to them. He recalled Robert's words after Papa's funeral. "... _you have been dead to him for years. He told me so."_

There, the comfortable resentment returned, driving away any sadness. Feeling oddly relieved to have an excuse not to feel the kind of pain Robert was experiencing, he sat back down in his chair and waited for Robert to speak again.

"Does it ever bother you how similar we are to our father?" Robert spoke up suddenly, wiping tears from his cheek. His tone was no longer quite as belligerent as before. "You with your stubborn, single-minded arrogance, and me with my inability to get out of my own way and make something of my life-"

"Robert...come on. I don't want to have this conversation-I really don't."

His brother's eyes narrowed. "Then why did you call me back?"

Jean-Luc shrugged, and then realized his shoulders were probably not in view. "I don't know," he admitted.

"I tried to talk to you about Papa at his funeral, and you walked away, Jean-Luc."

"I don't recall that-"

"Of course, you don't. You know what your problem is? You've never had to face death as I have. Nana... then our mother, and now Papa, and not once have you faced the fact that they are dead and gone."

"Nonsense...you know how much I cared about Maman," his voice caught in his throat, as he heard the lyrical voice of his long-dead mother in his head.

"Yes, I know and you were certainly her favorite. But she died while you were in the Academy. You never had to experience what it was _like_."

Picard laughed bitterly. "Perhaps not, but I've been trained to deal with death, Robert."

"Has one of your beloved crew died yet? Perhaps a friend?"

Picard swallowed and rubbed his hands on his knees. "No...but eventually I know it will happen. It's part of serving in Starfleet."

"And when it happens? Will you fall apart?"

"I won't fall apart...I'll rely on my training."

"Good luck to you then, Jean-Luc. And congratulations on growing into a cold-blooded adult."

"Just like him," Jean-Luc heard himself say flatly.

To his surprise, Robert laughed genuinely. "Yes. Just like him. Goodbye, Jean-Luc."

"Goodbye," he replied, tapping the screen to end the call.

* * *

Picard felt he needed to vent, but now that he was a senior bridge officer, that was no easy task. He couldn't complain about his irritating call with Robert to just anyone...not that he was accustomed to divulging details of his personal life to others. But something about the call had distracted him, and he needed his mind to be clear of distractions. Presently there was only one person he felt remotely close to on this ship. He had some time before he was scheduled to reconvene in sickbay, and decided to try and find Zev. He paused, grabbing his tricorder from the table. Zev would be in the cargo bay. He knew that Commander Hanson had assigned Zev to prepare supplies for the away team, and he also happened to know she had been personally insulted by the order.

Of course, she was completely professional, but still. Hanson had a way of attempting to put his subordinates in their place, which had the effect of humiliating them at the same time making Hanson appear petty. It was obvious that Hanson felt threatened by the officers rising through the ranks who sought to surpass his own accomplishments. Picard was one of a few on this ship who ambitious enough to rub J.P. Hanson the wrong way. APparently doing one's job well was all it took.

As he neared the cargo bay, he saw Hanson exiting, and slowed. He attempted to get away with a brief nod as he passed by, but the first officer flagged him down. "Going to check on Zev?"

"Yes, sir "

Hanson crossed his arms and smiled tightly. "Which means you received my order transferring command of the away team to you."

"Yes, sir."

Hanson's color deepened. He seemed to have been waiting for something more from Picard. Perhaps a thank you? Not likely, especially since Jean-Luc guessed the order had come from Captain Sarna, who he would, of course, thank. More importantly, he would not let her down.

Hanson continued to press the point. "You know and I know that this is what you wanted along, Picard."

"I want what is best for this ship and crew, sir."

"Bullshit!" Hanson pointed in his face so closely that Jean-Luc was almost forced to take a step back. Still, he didn't. "You want what's best for your _career_ , isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir. But ideally, what is best for my career is also best for this crew."

Hanson nodded slowly and dropped his hand. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you, Picard?"

Picard shifted his eyes to Hanson's, and held his gaze. "Yes, sir."

"Well, I hope I'm there when you realize that's not quite enough to command a crew." Hanson smiled coldly and breezed past him down the hall before he could respond.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Zev was setting up a tripod-like structure in the cargo bay. Five of them, to be exact. She was immersed in her work, and it appeared that she had already organized the supplies necessary for their mission to the Namib moon. She got up from her crouched position as Picard walked closer. Her antennae swerved to point in his direction. "Congratulations," she said. If there was a twinge of jealousy in her tone, he ignored it. For Zev to make any kind of statement, it had to be sincere.

"Thank you, Zev," he said simply, uninterested in discussing his new appointment. As much as he'd wanted to lead an away team mission, now that it had happened, he felt self-conscious about drawing attention to the fact that it would be his first one. Hanson had made clear it hadn't been his choice to give up command of the mission, and even clearer that he wanted to see Picard make a career-defining mistake. He stuffed his anger at Hanson down further and gestured at Zev's work. "Are these transponders?"

"Sort of...they will allow us to keep oriented, and will also act as signal boosters for the transporter beam, as long as we are within 30 meters of one of these," she patted the top of the tripod she had been fiddling with. "Just finished testing these out, now."

He glanced around him. "Well, everything appears in order...you've made quick work of the assignment Commander Hanson gave you."

Zev glared at him, and her antennae stood up straight on her head. "Is that a joke, Picard?"

He frowned. "No, it was merely a statement of fact."

"Yes...well the assignment ordered by Hanson was far below my abilities, I hope you know that. A first-year cadet could have read a supply list."

"Of course..." He gestured for her to follow him. She seemed pleased to leave her dull assignment behind and fell into step with him. "I'm reassigning you, effective immediately," he said when they stepped out into the corridor. "You are right, your skills are being under-utilized. That is why I need you in charge of making sure we all come back alive from the moon. I have a bad feeling about this cloud, and if it is capable of killing 200 colonists, we are just as much at risk of succumbing to its power, Zev."

"So...get us back alive. Anything more specific than that?"

Picard gave her a stern look. "I trust your abilities, Zev. Make it happen."

She brightened considerably at that. "Thank you." The antenna closest to him swiveled in his direction. "Do I have to call you sir for this mission? We are, after all, the same rank."

Picard shrugged. "Use your professional judgment, Zev. At moments like these, I ask myself what Captain Sarna would do."

Zev looked at him closely. " _Now_ you are joking."

He raised an eyebrow and looked over at her. "Certainly not."

Zev laughed. "Now, let us discuss why you came to talk, Picard."

He cleared his throat. The call with Robert now seemed remote and the inadequate feelings he usually experienced after speaking with his brother had dissipated. He felt fine again. No need to dredge up troubled feelings again. "I just thought I would...check in," he said slowly. He silently kicked himself for the lie. Aside from feeling silly, it was not wise to lie to an Andorian. Andorians were honest, at times to a fault, and detested deceit. They were even known to resort to violence in extreme situations where the truth had been violated. If he wanted to establish a good working relationship with Zev, he would have to do better.

"You are not the _checking in_ type, Picard. Of that I am certain."

"Mmm," he conceded. _Just tell her about Robert!_ He took a deep breath. "Do you have any siblings?"

* * *

 **Earth- San Francisco**

Starfleet Medical Academy was well known as being a maze of white and off-white corridors, that a person could literally become lost in. That was exactly why Walker Keel didn't venture inside. Instead, he waited outside next to a walkway at one of the side entrances. It had seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe it was his lack of sleep and high level of stress. The situation with Finnegan had begun to escalate, and Walker had been tasked with completing his investigation into the death of doctor Chandler. The whole matter had resulted in many sleepless nights, which was now affecting his thinking. So his judgment was off.

"Jesus... _Walker_!"

Walker was jolted out of his daze. There she was, standing before him, fresh-faced, beautiful, and a little impatient. Still, she looked happy enough to see him. Beverly Howard adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "You scared me!" She reached out and hit him playfully on the shoulder, but not too gently. "I had no idea you were back in town. We should get together this weekend-"

He grabbed her hands tightly, and she immediately stopped talking, sensing something was wrong with her normally calm friend. He linked her hand under his arm and started walking. "Can I walk you home?"

She shot him a sideways glance, and her formerly vibrant expression had turned suspicious. "Sure."

They walked along in silence for another five minutes until her apartment was in sight. Glancing around them, she elbowed him in the ribs. "What the hell is going on, Walker? I don't hear from you for months, and then you just show up and-"

He put a finger to his lips. "Shh..."

She sighed and glanced behind her again. Were they being followed?

"Well," she said when they reached her building. "Can I invite you in for some coffee and actual conversation? I've been doing nothing but studying for exams for weeks now, and now that they're behind me, I'd just like to chat with someone about something other than extraterrestrial virology."

He stopped short. "Funny you should say that..."

She smiled as she waved her palm over the security lock and the door swung inward with a click. "Funny? What's so funny about an alien virus? Although," she said, snapping her fingers as she threw her bag down on the floor without much care, " there is this really intriguing virus originating from the Decatur colony that is transmitted only by a blood-sucking insect. So when the temperature drops to less than-"

"Bev, that's amazing; gross but amazing... but look, I am very short on time."

"Oh." She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on a nearby couch. "Okay," she said slowly. "Well, listen, I just got my replicator fixed, and it makes a halfway decent cup of coffee. Do you at least have time for that?"

Walker exhaled loudly. "Yeah. Yes, of course." He sat down on her couch, politely lifting her discarded jacket out of the way. He couldn't help but notice that she was as messy as ever. The impressive organization within her scientific mind was not reflected in her housekeeping.

She returned within minutes with two cups of coffee and looking slightly disappointed. He took one of the cups and put a hand on her knee. "What is it?"

She smiled wistfully and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, Walker. I guess I just have missed talking with you. I've been so focused on my studies, I haven't left much time for just visiting with friends." She grabbed his hand suddenly. "And you really are my dearest friend."

He broke into a slow smile. "At least I'll always take the title of your oldest friend."

She returned his smile, but then her face fell a bit. It reminded him that he had something important to ask her, something about their shared past. But he knew she rarely discussed her parents, and so he decided to go lighter for a bit.

"I'd ask you about school, but you know I don't understand any of the medical jargon. I wouldn't have a clue what you were talking about."

Beverly rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Walker. It's not that complicated. Anyway...I've decided to focus on epidemiology and disease control. As we move deeper into the galaxy, our species is more vulnerable than we know. Space exploration has improved our medical technology, but we travel faster than the speed of light. There is the potential that we could encounter a disease that we aren't prepared for and it could wipe us out."

"Wow...never thought of it that way when I was a Captain, but then again if I had we might not have traveled farther than our solar system for fear of some intergalactic disease."

She laughed but then grew dead serious. "What do you mean, when you _were_ a Captain. What happened?"

"Uh...well I've retained my rank, but I gave up my ship."  
"Why?!"

He rubbed his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. "New opportunities?"

She raised her auburn eyebrows at him. "Are you asking me, or telling me? You don't seem so sure of yourself-which is not like you. What _kind_ of opportunities?"

"I'm teaching at the Academy."

He was cut off when Beverly fell backward onto her couch in abrupt and uproarious laughter.

"You're having way too much fun with this, Beverly," he said when she finally calmed down and sat back up to face him.

She wiped a tear from her eye, managing to mute her laughter. "You're full of it, Walker. No way you are teaching at the Academy. What's really going on here?"

He sat back and sighed. Apparently, none of his friends could believe that he could pass as an instructor. "Can we talk about something else?

"Sure, what do you want to talk about? You're the one in a rush." She grinned at him teasingly over her coffee cup. "In a rush to get back to teach your class..."

He shook his head and laughed. He looked at her for a few moments. It was hard to believe fifteen years had gone by since that fateful time on the Earth's moon. He could still remember playing cards with a five-year-old sarcastic little girl. Little did he understand her strength then. He was sad sometimes that he'd had to discover it the hard way. That she had to endure so much as a child, just to grow into the amazing young woman she had become. Gradually he regained his voice and raised the topic he knew would most annoy her. "So...have you met anyone interesting in school?"

She smiled coyly. "I went on a few dates before finding out I just don't need the distraction right now. Becoming a doctor is what's important to me right now. " She stared into her cup. "And making my grandmother proud of me."

"Of course she's already proud of you, kid. And so am I. "

To his surprise she wasn't ready to drop the subject. "Why do you ask? Do you have someone you'd like me to meet?" Her expression was again mischievous.

He froze. Just what did he think he was doing? "Um...never mind. He's too wrapped up his career right now. Just like you. "

"Ah-ha. The serious type. Now I'm really intrigued, Walker. "

Walker winced. "Please...don't be."

"He's your friend...please don't tell me he's as old as you."

"Bev, I'm thirty-six, that's not ancient...look, he's younger than me but older than you. Okay?"

"Okay..."

"Just do me a favor and forget I mentioned it. "

She shrugged, looking slightly perturbed. Gradually she focused in on him like a laser. "Look I know you have something to ask me that has nothing to do with my love life. "

"Bev...this one's difficult. "

"Spill it, Keel."

" How much do you remember about the night your parents died? "

She stood up quickly, and began to pace. "I remember enough..at times, it's too much. So I try...I mean it's better if I don't think about it."

"You were found in the lower levels of the station. Everything was on fire, Bev."

She nodded. "Yes."

" One thing I always wondered was why such a young kid would go into a burning fire. "

She'd never said this to anyone before. "I heard a voice calling out," she whispered. "Someone was calling for help, and I wanted to help them. "

* * *

 **Hey! Many thanks for continuing to read, and for your reviews. -PP**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Walker sat forward, gripping his cup of coffee. "Bev, I know this may be difficult, but I need you to tell me what you remember about that night. What you saw down in the lower levels."

Beverly's smooth cheek twitched, and he now saw that uneasiness had invaded her blue eyes. "Why?"

He placed his cup down and then slouched back into her couch. "Do you remember Dr. Chandler? The medic from the Orpheus station?"

She shrugged, and he could tell she was considering shutting down the entire conversation. He had to gain her interest, and more importantly, her empathy. It had to be worth it to her to reopen old wounds.

She smiled slightly and gave another little shrug. "I guess."

Walker tapped his knee absently. "He died recently."

She frowned, obviously concerned. "Oh? How?"

"Someone snapped his neck."

" _What_?" Of course, she was naturally curious, but on top of that, murder was highly unusual in modern society, let alone in a protective Starfleet setting.

"Chandler was working outside of Federation permissions and was even using a secret facility to carry out his experiments."

"Walker...this whole thing is so horrible."

"Yes...and that is what I'm currently investigating."

"Investigating? I thought you were _teaching_ , Walker. Or is that some kind of cover?" But she was no longer amused by the concept of Professor Keel and was instead increasingly unsettled.

"Beverly, I know it seems very sudden, that I'm back here and asking all kinds of questions-"

She sat forward very intensely. Surprised, he shifted in his seat. "Walker it is very sudden-and strange that you show up, and instead of acting like my oldest friend...you're asking me all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Ones I don't want to answer."

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically and took her hand tenderly. "But I think that there is a link between Doctor Chandler's death and what happened to your parents."

She pulled free of his hand and glared at him. "What _happened_ to them? They were killed in that horrible fire...you know that as well as I do."

"Bev...you know that you will always be able to trust me. But I need you to listen carefully to what I have to say. Because if I'm correct, we are both in danger." He watched her silently change her mind about engaging in this conversation with him. "I'm starting to believe that there was nothing accidental about that fire fifteen years ago. And that the person who tried to end all our lives that night still wants us dead."

She was silent for a few moments, before looking up at him again. "So you have a suspect, then?"

He nodded. "A rogue Starfleet Intelligence agent."

"And why would this person want to kill my parents...Doctor Chandler, and now us?"

He paused. "Who and what do you remember from Orpheus?"

She rocked back in her seat and laced her palms behind her head. "Are we really going to go down this road, Walker?" She sat forward again earnestly. "And is it going to help prevent this person from murdering again?"

"I hope so...I really do."

* * *

"So, Zev...your sage advice is that I start a fist fight with my brother...I had enough of those as a young boy. Didn't help anything."

"No, I _said_ to engage him in a duel, which is far more civilized and can be scheduled at your convenience."

"Either option would be difficult over subspace, Zev."

"If you plan to carry out your relationship with your only remaining family through subspace, then why even ask my advice?"

"Ha..."

"Your approach is all wrong here, Picard. On Andor, violence is recognized as more than an acceptable method of resolving conflicts. Especially between arguing family members."

"Violence is unlikely to resolve my issues with Robert. All we did was fight as children."

"And now that you are an adult, these tried and true methods are beneath you?"

Picard halted, holding up his palm. "Look Zev, I appreciate your offer of assistance, but I have no plans to schedule a duel with my brother; in fact, I could actually do without any contact from him whatsoever."

"You cannot abandon your family, Picard."

"Trust me, Robert would be fine with it. He feels the same way."

"Are you so certain about that?"

Jean-Luc crossed his arms. "No. And I don't care to embarrass myself by asking him. Now might we change the subject?"

Zev inclined both her antennae in his direction. "Gladly. What do you think of Lieutenant Commander T'Pel?"

To his surprise, he felt his face grow instantly warm. He couldn't quite understand and had no intention of telling Zev how his brief meeting with the Vulcan woman had affected him so intensely. He found her incredibly attractive, and yet she was completely unattainable, at least in part because she was a fellow officer, and. Vulcan no less. It had been some time since he had felt anything more than passing lust for a woman, and he prayed that this was no different. "She's...well, I only met her briefly."

Zev broke into a slow, rare smile. It looked almost sinister, beaming from her usually stoic face. "Ah-hah! Just as I had hoped. You are at a grave disadvantage."

"Huh?"

"As you know, I am a student of many alien cultures, including your own. As such, I am well aware of the weaknesses of the flesh that so often plague human beings."

"You make physical attraction sound like a disease...not that I am afflicted by such things," he added quickly.

"Nevertheless, I see from your face, which is changing color rapidly due to your obvious embarrassment, that you are enthralled by your competitor."

"I am _not_ ," he protested. "Enthralled is too strong a word," he said with a little less certainty. He touched his cheek, which admittedly felt warm, but, he still felt in control of his emotions. Zev was trying to throw him off, but it was all an amusing game to her.

"Ah...so you are in _love_ then! Which means I still have you at a disadvantage in our contest."

He gently tapped his forehead with a clenched fist before looking up at her again with a weary expression. "Love? Zev, your grasp on human language needs more work."

"And exactly how much Andorian are you able to speak?" She demanded.

"None," he admitted. "But that's not my point...my point is that I just met this person and we hardly exchanged a few words. I will admit that she is very... pleasant to look at, but that doesn't change my goal."

"Finally you admit your ambition to secure the second officer position!" She smiled again. "Or do your ambitions stretch beyond the second officer position, Picard?"

He clenched his jaw tightly. "Zev, I won't let some passing attraction get in the way of my career."

She reached out to pound him on the shoulder almost affectionately. "We are so alike, Picard."

* * *

When he arrived at sickbay, he found Lieutenant Mackenzie waiting for him outside Eneko's quarantine room. Nodding wordlessly to his new colleague, he punched in the appropriate code.

He glanced at Mackenzie as the blue decontamination field began to scan them from head to toe. Sizing Mackenzie up, he guessed they were roughly the same age. Had they graduated from the Academy together? Is that why the man appeared familiar? Then again, even if they had attended the Academy at the same time, Mackenzie was a linguist, not a command track officer. He sighed inwardly, annoyed by his inability to remember.

Mackenzie caught him staring, and looked like he wanted to say something, thought better of it, and then blurted out, "I was hoping I'd get to see you again."

"Huh?"

"I just didn't expect it would be so soon."

Picard lifted an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Mackenzie suddenly blanched. "Oh! I thought... I mean I thought Jack might have said something to you." The man trailed off, now looking somewhat mortified, as his face turned from pale to an embarrassed pink very quickly.

"Jack? Jack Crusher?" Picard finally realized where he had seen Leland Mackenzie before. Jack had dragged him to a party several months ago, and there he had been very briefly introduced to Mackenzie, who at that time equaled his rank; of course, that had been all that he had remembered about their encounter. He hadn't given it a second thought and hadn't anticipated ever seeing the man again. There was no guilt there, but he was now getting the sense that Lieutenant Mackenzie had some expectation of him.

MacKenzie's discomfort became clearer, but Jean-Luc was much too distracted by the fact that decontamination was taking even longer than it usually did, to recognize just why Mackenzie was acting strangely.

"Yes, well... Jack's a good friend of mine, and...well after meeting you at that boring party he mentioned that you were single...sorry, this isn't really going the way I'd hoped," he trailed off, possibly discouraged by Jean-Luc's blank stare.

Jean-Luc froze. _Oh, good Lord, I am going to have to speak to Jack about this._

Picard cleared his throat, having no idea how to avoid the matter becoming more awkward than it already was. "Just what exactly did Jack tell you about me?" he asked carefully.

Mackenzie pressed his lips together and shook his head quickly. "Never mind, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't intend to be inappropriate," he said as the decontamination field finally snapped off. He paused and apparently decided not to let the matter go quite yet. "Um, maybe this is a discussion for when we're off duty?"

The question was hopeful, but Picard kept his features as neutral as possible. _Not before I ask Jack what the hell he was thinking._ He found that out loud, he was only able to murmur, "Mmm-hmm..." as he reached out to input the entry code.

* * *

Lieutenant Amanda Eneko was awake, apparently very alert and working on a computer terminal inside her quarantine cell when they arrived. "Oh," she said, looking up. "Perfect timing...I think I've got the appropriate program keyed up. Did you bring your tricorder, sir?"

Picard lifted the tricorder with a resigned shake of his hand, before sitting down in his usual chair. He activated the instrument and began searching for the data they needed. The tricorder immediately began transferring data to Eneko's terminal on the other side of the partition.

"Hi Leland," Eneko said, looking up from her work with a welcoming smile.

Mackenzie had recovered from his awkward exchange with Picard and was quick with a charming smile in return, as he pulled his seat up next to Picard. Jean-Luc struggled to ignore an instance of internal panic. Mackenzie had after all indicated that he wanted to keep things professional, and Jean-Luc supposed he could take the man at his word. It did occur to him that he was seated next to and across from two people who had recently declared some kind of romantic interest in him, but he tried to focus on the job at hand.

"Got it," Eneko said. "I'm going to dim the lighting to approximately what it was down in the caves when we encountered the fog." Now sitting in near pitch black darkness, the three officers waited for the program to begin.

"How could you possibly have seen anything in this lighting?" Mackenzie whispered.

"You can talk normally," Picard's voice rang out testily in the darkness. "It's not bedtime."

Eneko stifled a laugh before remarking, "Actually that's a good question, Lieutenant Mackenzie. The fog had an iridescent quality and seemed to glow. It was clearly visible even in the dark...okay I am going to start projecting now."

Slowly a pink fog began to spread above them around the room. Even though it was merely a simulation, Jean-Luc felt a chill, as if he was back in the caves again. He crossed his arms and looked up, watching silently.

"So," said Mackenzie, "this is what you saw down there?"

"Yes," said Picard. "Specifically, this is what my tricorder recorded, when I used a pulse to disrupt the fog's electromagnetic field."

"Why did you do that?: Mackenzie's voice was merely curious, but it irritated Jean-Luc, all the same.

"The rest of the away team was trapped. I was afraid that the fog was the reason, and wanted to try and disable or disperse it somehow."

"Smart," Mackenzie remarked, and there was clear admiration in his voice.

"I know, right?" Eneko's voice agreed.

Picard took advantage of the cover of darkness to roll his eyes up at the ceiling. When he did, he saw something odd. A subtle ripple rolled through the fog. "Stop," he ordered. "What was that? Lieutenant Eneko, did you see that?"

"Yes sir, that shudder we just saw followed one of the electrical pulses you sent out."

"Resume," said Picard. They watched as the ripple repeated. Then a strange series of waves flowed through the fog, before reversing direction.

It took a moment for Picard to realize that Mackenzie was standing up amidst the simulated fog, and his face and hair took on an eerie glow. "I can't believe it," he said in awe. "It was talking to you."

"What do you mean?" Picard demanded.

"Leland's right, sir," Eneko's voice floated to him. "These patterns are anything but random. This is a form of communication."

"Excellent," Jean-Luc declared. 'I will consider this progress then." Suddenly a brief alarm interrupted the reasonable quiet of the lab.

 _"Attention crew, this is Captain Sarna. Report to battle stations immediately. Repeat, report to battle stations."_

Jean-Luc's heart leaped in his chest, and he jumped to his feet. "Lights!" As the lights snapped on, Mackenzie got up, following Picard, but Picard turned back briefly. "No, Lieutenant. You've both got important work to do here. Carry on, please. I've got to report to the bridge." He slipped out the door quickly.

Mackenzie watched him go and sat back down slowly. He felt Eneko watching him, and he smiled at her. "Is he always like that?"

Eneko smiled back shyly. 'Yes."

* * *

"Picard, I need you at the helm," Hanson was barking, when he arrived on the bridge. Picard nodded briefly at Zev, who was occupying tactical. To his mild surprise, T'Pel was manning the main science station with the ease of a veteran. She didn't acknowledge his presence, which was of course not her job to do.

"Aye sir," he said, slipping quickly behind the helm station. He kept his mind focused and his eyes on the scene up ahead of them. Located about three thousand meters away from their position was a small cargo freighter about one quarter the size of the _Stargazer_. The ship appeared to have been damaged. But that was only part of the problem. Two triangular shaped white ships were positioned close enough to the freighter to cause concern.

Hanson spoke up from his stance near a science station where he was studying the schematics of the freighter. "Captain, life signs on the freighter are fluctuating. It does have Federation identification, sir."

Sarna glanced up from her command chair. "Thoughts on the Tholians?" she suggested, her clear voice projecting throughout the bridge. 'I welcome all helpful opinions."

"They need at least two ships to generate an energy filament web," said Hanson. "And I think we can assume that's their plan."

"They're upset with us, that we've strayed off course," said Sarna, leaning forward to stare at the screen. "And knowing the Tholians, they expect us to get back on schedule without wasting their time."

 _"Gavin to Sarna. Captain, my away team is ready in the main transporter room, awaiting your signal to beam over and retrieve any survivors."_

"Stand by, Doctor, we've hit a snag. Sarna out."

"The Tholians are known for their extreme precision, and punctuality," said Picard, keeping his attention fixed on the helm. "I suggest immediate communication to repair any perceived transgression."

"The slightest misstatement could touch off Tholian aggression, Captain," T'Pel warned, barely glancing away from her post. "Tholian technology is equal, if not more advanced than our own."

"Hail them," said the captain. After a moment, a red-tinted ship's interior filled the view screen. Two glowing eyes moved steadily toward the center of the screen.

"Tholian commander, I am Captain Sarna of the United Federation of Planets."

"Your approved itinerary is known to us," replied the high-pitched response. "This latest diversion has not been approved by the Tholian Assembly. You will immediately remove your vessel and return to your approved course through Tholian territory, or we will subdue your ship."

"Tholian commander, we seek your cooperation with a rescue mission. The Federation freighter has strayed off course, and we believe the occupants of that ship to be in danger. Allow us to beam over, "

"Leaving us with a derelict ship? We will investigate the freighter's sudden appearance without Federation interference. You have five minutes to return to your approved course to the Namib Moon."

Sarna made a motion to cut the channel, and the screen returned to a view of sparkling stars. "How long will it take the Tholians to cover that freighter with an energy web?"

"Exactly 3.25 minutes, Captain," said T'Pel without hesitation.

"Tholians require extreme heat to survive, Captain," said Zev smoothly. "If necessary, we can sabotage their life support systems quite easily."

"Aggressive, and interesting battle plan, Zev," said Hanson. "But our priority is to find survivors, not start a war. We have no firm idea why that freighter went off course but based on the records, they fled a real or perceived danger and ended up here."

Captain Sarna stopped pacing back and forth and hit the comm button on her chair. Immediately the Tholian commander reappeared onscreen. "I have some bad news for us both, Tholian Commander. We believe that freighter is carrying an incendiary device. The device will detonate in approximately 15 minutes. Of course...I can't be certain. But, if you'd like to take your chances...you're welcome to build a web."

"Our sensors do not detect an incendiary device. Therefore, deception on your part is likely."  
"Romulan technology has a way of remaining undetected until it's done its job," Sarna said almost casually, then paused in her lie. "Of course, I can't be certain," she repeated again slowly.

The unblinking eyes of the Tholian leader remained steady on the screen. "You have fifteen minutes to resolve the situation. No extensions to this time frame will be permitted." The screen went black, and they watched as the Tholian ships exited the sector in a flash of light.

Sarna clapped her hands quickly. "Picard, Zev, T'Pel, report to transporter room one and accompany Dr. Gavin on board that freighter. You've got fifteen minutes, no more. Be safe," she added.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Walker shook his head in confusion as he held Beverly Howard's hands tighter in his. "You heard a voice? Who was it?"

Beverly blinked slowly. She had trained herself over the years to think of that night in only the broadest sense; her parents had been killed, and she had survived. She had learned to avoid thinking about the details, because whenever she really thought of that night, she was kept awake for hours staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. But now the appearance of her old friend under such mysterious circumstances was forcing her to remember it all again. "My mother. I heard my mother calling to me."

* * *

 **2328 Orpheus Base**

The little girl placed a hand on either side of the tunnel and scooted down the slight incline on her backside. A weird popping, crackling sound up ahead had inspired her to turn around and reverse her course back the way she'd come in. "It's just the heat from the fire. It's not really that close," she said out loud, trying to reassure herself. Beverly knew what plasma was; at least she knew enough to know it was dangerous but not an inescapable danger if she kept calm. But intuitively she also knew if she stayed inside the tunnel to hide, she would be trapped.

She shouldn't have been down in the lower levels anyway, but she'd been reading one of her favorite books in the cargo loading area. She wasn't supposed to be in the cargo loading area in the first place, but she was tired of hearing her parents fight. She'd wanted just a few moments of peace before her life as she knew it was to be uprooted. They were going to leave the station. Not just her family, but everyone. She was growing kind of excited to leave, but still, she'd grown up here on Orpheus, and it was all she could remember.

So she had been reading quietly on her own behind a giant crate when she heard a big explosion. The first thing she'd thought was that she hoped no one had been injured. A siren had begun to blare, and a voice sounding like Walker's was ordering people to begin evacuating. She hesitated a moment. She knew the quickest passage back to her parents. It would only take her a few minutes if she hurried. But then she heard it and froze... a voice was calling out softly, yet so clearly that it drowned out the sound of the sirens and the loudspeaker. The voice was unmistakable. It was her mother. "Beverly," the voice cried out. "Please help me."

Beverly took one halting step forward, and then another, as the voice became louder, more insistent. She spotted a utility hatch and felt compelled to walk closer to it. Something inside her was warning her of the danger, telling her that the voice wasn't really her mother...but she couldn't just leave her mother. She'd crawled into the utility hatch, and was amazed to find it full of a pinkish cloud. Once on a trip to Earth, she had seen real clouds. But this was different. It moved around her like smoke, but it didn't make her choke. She waved her arms around, trying to see ahead of her. "Mommy? Is that you?" The cloud suddenly began coalescing in front of her into a sphere. When she took an alarmed step back, it began to undulate and glowed a deeper red. For some reason, she felt immensely calm and didn't care even as the fog enveloped her. For a few seconds, it felt like the loving embrace of her mother. Then there was a loud clanging sound at the other end of the utility tunnel and another hatch swung open.

"Mom?" she called out again, but instead of her mom, it was the angry face of a man. If he saw her, he didn't acknowledge her presence, for which she was glad. It was Finnegan, the strange man who was always fighting with Commander Sarna and sometimes even her parents. Her father had said a few times that Finnegan couldn't "be trusted".

The man's face was streaked with sweat and grime and he looked around wildly, aiming a strange device into the tunnel. The pink cloud unfurled from around her torso, and she found that she immediately wanted to be back in its embrace. But she found her feet were stuck to the floor and she couldn't move forward. The cloud abruptly shrunk to a tiny ball, and shot down the tunnel and out the hatch, swiftly bypassing Finnegan, who nearly fell over. In a rage, he recovered and slammed the hatch shut and she was immersed in darkness. She heard quick footsteps and thought she heard at least two people shouting, a weapon discharging, and then an eerie silence. She needed to find her parents.

* * *

 **2343 USS Stargazer-Tholian Territory**

When Jean-Luc arrived in the transporter room he was suitably irritated to see that Zev was already there and suited up. She tossed him a space suit. Hurrying as fast as he could, and trying to appear composed at the same time, he felt clumsy under the impatient gaze of CMO Cynthia Gavin and her medical personnel. Two security officers also stood at the ready, seemingly irritated at the sudden appearance of any newcomers. Just as he was clicking his helmet into place, T'Pel walked into the transporter room, wearing a Vulcan environmental suit. With her, unexpectedly, was her Vulcan colleague Tanek, who was also wearing a nonissue environmental suit. He decided to let their uniform misstep go, but couldn't quite bring himself to step aside.

"Excuse me, Tanek, but unless you've been approved for this mission-."

" _Mister_ Picard, don't start quoting regulations, we are in the middle of a rescue mission," Dr. Gavin snapped, turning from the transporter pad. She gestured Tanek over. "You're a biologist, correct? We might need you over here. Come on, let's get moving!"

Sufficiently chided, Picard clicked his helmet into place and stepped up next to his comrades.

Gavin waved her tricorder at the transporter chief. "Go on then...energize."

As soon as he materialized on board the freighter it was evident that there would be few if any survivors. The life sign readings on Gavin''s superior medical tricorder had dimmed immediately upon beam over. She'd curtly ordered the team to split up into small groups, and Picard and Zev had taken the bridge. Once there, Picard glanced at Zev, and opened his tricorder, which began taking readings. "Looks as though the bridge is operating solely on auxiliary power."

"Affirmative," replied Zev. "And the area has recently been re-pressurized."

Jean-Luc knelt down next to a tall man who was sprawled face up on the deck, eyes wide and staring. Jean-Luc averted his eyes from looking at the man's face. He hadn't seen a dead body since his father had died six months prior. He struggled if only for a moment to come back to the present. He began to type data into his tricorder. The crew was non-Starfleet and wore civilian clothes, but the man wore a small multi-colored pin on his collar, and Picard instinctively knew this was the captain.

"He's dead," Jean-Luc said flatly, glancing up at his colleague. The temperature on the bridge was well below freezing, and the outside of his faceplate was now encased in a film of ice. Still crouching, he adjusted his tricorder and waved it around him. "Confirming all six bridge personnel are dead."

"And that's the reason why," Zev said," pointing up at the ceiling where there was a meter-wide gap in the hull. The shimmer of a thin back-up energy shield was all that protected them from the vacuum of space. Zev adjusted her tricorder settings and began to survey the damaged hull.

"Maybe," Picard grunted as he got up to his feet. "But we can't be certain the hull wasn't damaged after they died. From the inside."

"You immediately suspect foul play...sabotage from within. Why not the Tholians?"

"Come now, Zev...there were no other ships tracked in this sector, aside from the Tholians...and they surely didn't do this." When his comrade appeared less than convinced about his theory, he continued. "Additionally, look at the blast radius, and scoring on the inner hull. It looks more like a phase- type weapon was discharged in close proximity."

"And you are saying the Tholians could not have boarded before we arrived, killed the crew, and sabotaged the ship?"

"The Tholians don't use phasers."

"Assuming you're right about the type of weaponry...the Tholians are known to be a hostile race. Not nice like humans," Zev emphasized the word with a hiss. Despite that the bulky helmet, her sarcasm was apparent.

"No. This isn't their style," said Picard confidently. "Besides, you said yourself back on the Stargazer that the Tholians require extreme heat to survive. Even with environmental suits, why beam over here and risk their lives over some errant freighter?"

"Oh, so are you an expert on Tholians now?"

"No...I'm merely using your words against you; just as you would do to me," replied Jean-Luc indignantly.

"I would do no such thing," Zev scoffed.

"The hell you wouldn't!"

 _"Zev, Picard...drop whatever you're doing and get down to deck three, right away. And set phasers to stun."_

Doctor Gavin's usually measured tones sounded so anxious and hurried, that they didn't hesitate to head for the lift.

* * *

Now, several minutes had gone by, and she was still alone in this tunnel. She could go back the way she had come from the cargo bay, but the hatch she'd come through was now glowing a dull green. That meant that the plasma fire had spread to the cargo area and it wasn't safe to go back that way. She no longer believed that her mother was down here in the depths of the station. Now it all seemed so silly. Why would her mother be down here? And Beverly had heard her mother's clear voice calling for help. The hatch was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open a little further with her sneaker. Cautiously she got to her hands and knees and moved to peer through the hatchway. A blast of intense heat almost forced her back into the tunnel.

Gathering her courage, she dropped down to the floor. The emergency coolant system had switched on but was only partially operational. She heard more shouts coming from the left, and she knew that there was a utility elevator to the right. She just had to make a run for it. As the angry shouts grew closer, her instincts told her to begin running as fast as she could in the other direction.

Up ahead she could see the freight elevator, but to get to it, she would have to get past a jet of plasma that had burst from a wall and blown a hole into the parallel wall spanning the room. As she approached at a jog she felt her foot slip on something and fell onto her back into a shallow pool of something sticky. "Blood," she noted immediately but didn't feel any revulsion or fear. Someone had been injured; badly. Pushing herself up, she ran closer to the plasma jet, and it felt as though her skin would melt away, it was so hot. She could now see it would be impossible to get past the plasma without being incinerated. The beam was projecting just over her head, and she would have to crouch down to make it underneath. It would be more than dangerous to attempt this.

She turned at the sound of voices now directly behind her. "Stop, or I'll shoot! I can guarantee my phaser's set to kill now, Finnegan." Commander Sarna stood paused in forward motion, with her weapon trained on the injured man in front of her. Heavily bleeding from his right leg and still carrying the odd device Beverly had seen him holding in the tunnel, he skidded to a halt.

* * *

Gabriela Sarna took a careful step forward, noticing the little girl for the first time. Not long ago, she'd ordered Beverly's parents to evacuate and had gone to rescue Beverly herself; promising the worried parents that she would find their child. Except it hadn't gone as expected. Until now, she hadn't seen a glimpse of the elusive five-year-old, and because she had encountered Finnegan almost immediately down here in the lower levels of the Orpheus base, she hadn't wanted to put the child at risk. But now, here was her worst case scenario: the station on fire, and Finnegan standing between her and an innocent child. A large amount of free-flowing ignited plasma in the room was compounding the problem. But if Beverly could get past the fire she could get to the freight lift and to the safety of her family. Young Walker Keel would be organizing the evacuation efforts of the small station crew of around thirty. But there was still the problem of Finnegan. He was unpredictable and trained just like her in the lethal hand to hand combat required by Starfleet Intel. It would also be like him to try and take a hostage, and she couldn't allow that to happen to the girl.

Sarna took another step toward Finnegan as he slowly spun around to face her. He wobbled on his bad leg but kept his balance. She had fired her phaser on heavy stun and struck him in the leg, which had slowed him down considerably, but strangely, he had been ignoring her for the most part, just carrying that giant tricorder-like-device and searching, searching, obsessively through the depths of the station. Now she knew that this creature Finnegan was trying to catch, this thing that had killed one of her officers, and which her father John Sarna was attempting to claim for his own, was much more than the Orpheus project had even bet on. She had to give the little girl a chance... something...she would talk to him, distract him.

"How long were you going to keep the Howards in the dark on this, Finnegan?" She shouted above the sounds of structures beginning to fail around them. "This was never about some nanites, was it?"

"As long as the scientists were convinced Starfleet actually cared about measuring the evolutionary progress of some microscopic robots, their experiments would continue to cause just enough disruption to the environment below this station," agreed Finnegan.

"Enough to wake whatever it is you're chasing," Sarna said, her hand slipping on the phaser handle from the intense heat and fatigue.

"And so if anything goes wrong, like say...a horribly destructive fire caused by seismic disturbances due to their experiments..." He shrugged.."Well, you know the rest."

Sarna shifted her stance hoping Beverly could see her more clearly and would catch her drift. The little girl could make safely beneath the plasma fire if she stayed low. But she was a frightened five-year-old and seemed frozen with fear.

"The perfect cover story," Sarna continued, as she advanced slowly coming to within several meters of Finnegan.

Finnegan looked up from studying his strange device and grinned eerily at her. "We won't need a cover story if everyone here dies."

Commander Sarna rushed him then, tackling the man to the ground. His device flew out of his hands and skidded across the floor. As Finnegan kicked free of Sarna and they both scrambled for the device, Sarna shouted to the girl. "Beverly, run! Stay low and take the freight elevator to your parents. They are looking for you. Go!"

Sarna grabbed for Finnegan's right boot and his injured leg, but he brought his heel down on her hand, breaking two of her fingers. Crying out in pain, she grabbed ahold of his leg again, gaining enough of a grip to throw herself on top of him. She landed with an elbow on his throat, throwing all of her weight into the blow. He writhed in agony below her but had the device now in hand. A wild rage filled her mind as she struggled to cut off his airway permanently. Still, she wanted answers, and she let up ever so slightly. "What is Orpheus? Tell me!"

He spat out blood. "All you need to know, Gabriela is that your father sent you here for one reason. To die here on this station." He waved the device in his hand. "Once I have the creature, I'll fulfill my promise to him, and see you dead. All of you," he added, turning his head in the direction of Beverly Howard.

She made the mistake of looking up briefly to see if Beverly had changed her position, and Finnegan struck quickly at her face with something blindingly bright. The pain seared from her hairline to just below her left eye. The pain was so intense that she feared for a few seconds that her eye was gone. But through a bloody haze, she found she could still see well enough. Well enough to see that a pink cloud had descended on the room and was coalescing around the frightened child just steps away.

Finnegan dropped the laser scalpel to the floor with a clatter and struggled to his feet, wheezing with what Sarna guessed was a broken windpipe. "It's focused on the girl," he cried out hoarsely, stumbling away.

The cloud swooped underneath the plasma fire, and the entire room seemed to cool immediately. Sarna watched breathlessly as the child scampered beneath the makeshift barrier created by the fog.

"It's helping her," she whispered. Beverly was already safe at the elevator when Commander Sarna scooped up the laser scalpel from the deck. Finnegan was crouched down underneath the fog, and she could see that he was working furiously to capture it with his device. The fog rippled throughout and then changed to a blood red hue, causing darkness to descend on the room, before it dissipated and the disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Sarna leveled the scalpel at Finnegan. "You said you wanted to see me dead. So come and get me."

* * *

 **2343**

"Hostile ships are returning, Captain. There are three of them now."

"Raise shields, Vigo." Captain Sarna walked back to her command chair and stood by there for another tense moment, as the bridge personnel fixated on the main view screen. The Tholians were indeed back, and now numbered three.

J.P. Hanson stood next to the captain, arms crossed. He glanced at her. The captain was pensive, but as far as he was concerned, they should be readying for battle not ruminating. "Hail them, sir?" He suggested.

Sarna shook her head and blinked slowly. "No point."

"But sir-"

She stopped him by pointing to the view screen. The Tholians had spread out into a precise triangle shape. Without any further warning, the alien ships began to construct a bluish energy web. Within minutes, they would be encased in a web that would drain power from the Stargazer and imprison her ship. "Damn. Sarna to Gavin."

"Communications are weak, sir," reported Vigo. "Compensating..."

There was garbled static and then Dr. Gavin's voice came through clear. _"Gavin here."_

Sarna felt the ball of tension in her upper back unlock just a little bit. "Doctor, I don't know how many survivors you've found over there, but our fifteen minutes are up. I need your team back here now, so we can exit the system."

" _-can't..."_

 _"_ What do you mean, you can't?"

"The Tholian beams are interfering with our communications array," Hanson announced. "Suggest we drop shields and beam the away team back based on their individual signatures."

Sarna gave him a sideways glance. "We can't be certain to capture the survivors, and I'm not locking onto just any life sign. Not yet at least." She took a deep breath. "Doctor, what is your status?"

There was a long blast of static. " _Captain...complicated... we've taken fire-"_

 _"_ What? Drop shields and beam them over, now!"

"Tholians firing, Captain. Just a warning shot."

There was a screech of feedback. " _Captain, Gavin here...under attack, and I can't account for everyone. Wait...wait!"_

 _"_ Doctor? Cynthia!"

Sarna turned to Vigo, who shook his head in frustration. "Channel's blocked sir."

The captain turned to Hanson, and he instantly knew what she was thinking. "Take a security team over there, number one," she snapped. "And get our people back."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 _ **Derelict Freighter-Tholian space**_

"The atmosphere's breathable down here," he said in a hushed voice, as he and Zev walked down the empty corridor. It was seemingly abandoned and mostly dark, save for flickering lighting here and there.

The environment on deck three had been compromised as well, but in contrast to the frozen bridge, Jean-Luc's faceplate now fogged up from the almost tropical heat.

"Don't take your helmet off," Zev warned. Like him, she held her phaser at the ready. Her antennae swiveled slowly around from right to left and back to front. It was oddly reassuring to him that she had an extra security system built in to protect them.

"Of course not," he snapped. "I'm well aware of away team protocols."

"Of course you are," she said mildly. "Zev to Dr. Gavin...we have arrived on deck three, please give us your position."

Zev's call was met with silence.

"I've got five humanoid life signs up ahead, about 200 meters away in an enclosed room," said Jean-Luc, glancing down at his tricorder, which displayed five green blobs. "Must be Gavin and her team."

"There should be seven of them," said Zev. "Dr. Gavin brought two medics, there were two security officers, and then the Vulcans. Five life signs and no answer. Not good, my friend."

Picard adjusted the tricorder to search a wider range. The life sign readings were now flickering...odd.

"The rumor is that Lieutenant Eneko took off her helmet down in those caves, and that is why she is now close to death."

He craned his neck around to look at her. "She's not dying, Zev." As soon as he said it, he regretted how pathetic he sounded. Why deny the fact that she likely _was_ dying? "And yes...she did take her helmet off. Despite my objections."

"Oh, so then it's not your fault, despite what Lieutenant Marx has been telling everyone who will listen. Making you look bad, Picard."

He exhaled so forcefully that his helmet fogged up. Sometimes Zev tried a little too hard to get under his skin. Marx was jealous and unprofessional, and if he had to have him removed from the Namib away team, he wouldn't hesitate to do so. "I'll handle Marx."

"Hmmph."

Picard focused on his tricorder again. "Picking up three separate humanoid lifeforms 70 meters to our left...wait, the life signs have dropped to two."

"Which i _s_ it, Picard?"

He resisted the urge to bang the tricorder against his palm. It appeared to be working fine...so then why were the readings so inconsistent?

"There! It's back. Two life forms are fairly close together. A third is in the lead. All three are moving in the same direction, headed toward the rest of the away team."

"Ah," said Zev. "The two Vulcans ...and perhaps we have also found this ship's saboteur? And why would our new Vulcan colleagues have split off from the group?" The notes of suspicion in her voice were unmistakable.

Jean-Luc could feel his heartbeat increase rapidly in response to the mention of this new danger. Of course, Gavin had told them to have their phasers at the ready, and now she wasn't answering, perhaps due to the presence of an enemy. According to the tricorder, she and the rest of the team were alive. But it didn't in any sense mean they were safe.

"Picard to Gavin..." Again, silence. "Picard to _Stargazer._ " Not even static on the channel.

Suddenly Zev grabbed his forearm tightly, stopping him in his tracks. "We need to think carefully about this, Picard."

He looked up at his taller colleague distractedly. "Hmm? CMO Gavin told us to report to her, Zev. And that's what we're doing."

"No...no she did not. She told us to report to deck three and set our phasers to stun. Now we see that Dr. Gavin, her medics and security are all gathered in one place, and are not moving. Communications are down. Meanwhile, the Vulcans have split off and are in pursuit of an elusive life form. And if that were not bizarre enough, there are no other apparent survivors on this non-descript civilian ship."

"You think the away team is under attack or trapped..." He had to admit now that it seemed likely. "Then we intercept the Vulcans." He tapped at the tricorder. "We find the Vulcans, then we'll find this mysterious attacker, and by doing so, we can ensure the rest of the away team's safety."

"There's a split up ahead."

"Good, we'll take the juncture to the left."

"No!" Zev glared down at him from her substantial height advantage. "If we take the left just up ahead, we'll come out behind the Vulcans. Let's keep going so that we can take the next left and head them all off before they reach Gavin."

Picard nodded. She was right. "Fine. Let's pick up the pace then."

* * *

 **A few minutes later...**

Picard pressed his body tighter against the wall of the corridor. Zev was watching him intensely from her position on the other side of an open doorway. They had both heard the sound of quick footsteps. Someone who did not want to be seen. He repressed the natural urge to put his finger to his lips since, after all, his helmet was in the way. Condensation from the humid conditions fogged up his helmet again. He checked his phaser again. Set to stun. He kept his breathing even, lifted the phaser and took a step into the dark room.

He immediately felt as though someone else was in the room with them. Looking down, a wisp of a pink cloud swirled around his feet and then dissipated. He glanced over at Zev, who had seen it as well. Quickly checking his tricorder, he could see that ahead through this room were two humanoid lifeforms. Where was the third? The hair on the back of his neck stood up, as he pressed on ahead. Zev had her phaser out and was scanning the room cautiously as they continued forward.

As dark as it was he could see this was a medical laboratory of some kind. A lab that was a complete disaster. Tables and cabinets had been toppled and medical equipment was strewn in a seemingly haphazard manner. A broken light hung down right above him and as it flickered, he spotted a shape ahead of him on the floor. Switching on his headlamp and aiming it downward he saw that it was a body. A female human stared up at him with lifeless eyes. The gruesome state of the woman's neck made it clear how she had died. "Stabbed. Someone murdered this woman," he said with quiet anger.

Averting his gaze, he recorded the cause of death on his tricorder before stepping over the body. A wave of nausea passed through his upper abdomen. Feeling dizzy, he turned to see if Zev had seen his reaction, and with some relief, he saw that Zev appeared to be investigating something on the far side of the room. Getting her attention he waved her over, anxious now to follow through with their plan. She quickly re-joined him and they continued their way through to the other side of the lab.

* * *

Just as they reached the other side, someone moved in the doorway. The slim figure held up her index finger to her lips, warning them to be silent. Picard was immediately outraged. T'Pel had removed her helmet, which lay on the floor nearby. He stepped out of the room, Zev following behind him. He was about to launch into a lecture when he noted that not only was she alone in the corridor, but there was a closed door nearby, which was covered in a pinkish film of condensation. T'Pel's tricorder had been placed on the floor just outside of the door and was emitting an energy field of some kind.

Picard grabbed her helmet and thrust it into her arms. "What the hell were you thinking? Put this back on!"

Zev watched the Vulcan with open suspicion as she unhurriedly placed the helmet back on. " In truth, I do not know what the hell I was thinking Mr. Picard," she responded frankly. "I became disoriented and when I again became aware of my surroundings, my helmet was there on the floor."

Picard flashed back momentarily to his experience in the caves with Lieutenant Eneko. T'Pel had now been exposed to the same viral entity, hadn't she? The same virus he had seen traveling through the caves, and now this ship, swirling around his feet. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, and no doubt, she already realized her dilemma.

"Where's the other one?" Zev demanded. "And where is your phaser?"

"If by 'the other one' you mean _Tanek_ ," offered T'Pel, "He is inside that room, with our attacker. And I believe that Tanek took my phaser when I was disoriented. We were trying to intercept our attacker before he reached the rest of the away team."

"Gavin? Are they alright?"

T'Pel nodded. "He attacked us all with a high-powered energy weapon and then fled. Several of our team were wounded, but Tanek and I were uninjured. We sealed the rest of the away team in one of the minor laboratories, and pursued our attacker."

Picard felt breathless. "Did you see him?"

"Only fleetingly. He is swift...and elusive. And extremely violent," she added gravely.

Zev elbowed Picard so hard, he almost lost his balance. "Let's go, " she urged him excitedly.

"Wait!" Picard grabbed his friend by the arm and pointed at the energy field. "T'Pel, what is that?"

"After Tanek pursued the assailant into that room, I noted that the cloud-like entity followed. I then programmed an energy barrier using my tricorder. It is presumably the only reason this hallway is not currently flooded with the viral lifeform."

"I don't understand...what is it doing on this ship?"

Zev wrenched her arm away from Jean-Luc. "Let's discuss this later! There is another entrance to this room if we double back," Zev insisted.

Jean-Luc looked back down the corridor. "We need to re-group with the away team. That's why we're here," he reminded his colleague firmly.

Zev's antennae tapped the inside of her helmet, displaying her irritation. "Tanek is trapped in that room with a dangerous enemy and you're saying we're not going to go and assist him?" Zev accused.

Picard was resolute. "Tanek stole T'Pel's phaser and left her alone in this corridor knowing she had just been exposed to the viral entity. He made a choice, Zev. You heard her, the others need medical attention."

Zev adjusted the setting on her phaser, and there was now a fierce look in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"I'm going to neutralize the enemy."

"Stop! Zev, don't do this."

Zev backed away into the lab they had just traversed. "I'm not under your command. For the moment, Picard, we are equals. Good luck," she added before turning and running away in the other direction.

Jean-Luc looked over at T-Pel, who was kneeling down and examining her tricorder, which she had somehow rigged to provide a barrier to the doorway.

"Someday, perhaps I will ask you how you managed to do that," he said. But as he watched, he could see that the tricorder was glowing red. Something wasn't right.

T'pel stood up swiftly. "It is overheating. We must get safely out of range."

He nodded. "Let's go. We need to find the others and get back to the ship."

* * *

 _ **USS Stargazer**_

"Captain, I've got a lock on the Tholian ships, should I fire phasers?"

"No," said Captain Sarna. Vigo was a superior weapons officer, but he was often a little too quick to want to use them."Keep all power to shields for now until we get a lock on the away team."

"But sir-"

"Vigo... have you ever been inside a Tholian web before?"

"Uh...no, sir."

"The Tholian energy beams have properties similar to deflector shields. Our phaser fire will bounce right back at us, and we don't need our shields compromised further...am I clear?"

"Yes, captain."

"Status on the Tholian energy web?" Captain Sarna sat in the command chair, aware that at least her outward appearance was calm. Appearances, of course, meant nothing, if she could not manage to get her ship out of danger. Presently, the Tholians were constructing an energy web around the Stargazer and the derelict freighter, and the Stargazer had lost contact with the away team, leading to Sarna's decision to send Commander Hanson and a security team over to ensure that everyone came back safely. She hadn't anticipated an ambush on board the freighter, but maybe she should have. She should have sent JP Hanson over to start with. Gavin was a talented physician, but Sarna regretted her decision to make her the lead on this rescue mission. The team hadn't been prepared for a surprise attack.

"Captain, we're doing all we can to compensate, but the Tholian beams are draining shields and power to phasers. We need to get out of here before we're completely trapped."

"Can you get a fix on the away team?"

"No, captain not as long as we have this power drain on the sensors."

"How long before the web is complete?"

"The pace is slower than what Lieutenant Commander T'Pel predicted sir," said Lieutenant Marx from the helm. "I'd say we have at least five more minutes."

Sarna stood up and walked up behind Lieutenant Marx. "They are deliberately taking their time, to encourage us to leave...but of course we can't leave without our people. They will proceed as ordered. Tholians hate having their schedules changed...so that's what we're going to do."

Marx craned his neck back to look up at her. "Sir?"

"Lieutenant, you said that subspace communication is still down?"

"Yes, sir. Due to the Tholian web."

"Amplify our communications array...in fact, I want all power diverted to boost our outgoing signals."

Marx had some difficulty hiding his confusion at this order. "Done sir," he nevertheless reported a few moments later.

Almost immediately, the proximity alarms began to signal, and the ship shook violently underfoot.

"Steady," Sarna ordered, walking quickly back to her chair to sit down. "Report," she said calmly.

"One of the Tholian ships has broken away, Captain...we are experiencing repeated bombardment by volatile tetryons. We've taken minor damage to the lower port nacelle."

"Increase power to shields."

"Captain, the space around the ship is filling with tetryons...we're taking damage...but so are the Tholians," Vigo said, beginning to sound a lot more optimistic. "Their ships are going haywire!"

"Captain, our shields are compromised, at fifty-five percent," Marx warned.

"Tholian web is down, sir!" The forward viewscreen showed two of the three Tholian ships tumbling away in space.

"Everyone remain calm," announced Sarna. "We've disrupted subspace a bit...caused some tetryons to leak out into our normal space, and as a result, we've got a new danger...one that I hope we can get out of soon enough. Most importantly, we're free of the web. We've bought ourselves some precious time, now I need all focus on getting that away team back."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"Communicator's completely dead," Picard complained into his foggy faceplate.

For about the tenth time, T'Pel simply shook her head and shrugged. They couldn't hear each other, without yelling. And what was the point of that?

Jean-Luc slammed the side of his fist into the door. "Dr. Gavin? This is Lieutenant Commander Picard. Are you alright?"

"CMO Gavin's been wounded, sir," came a muffled voice from inside the sealed lab. "She's stable, but we need to get her back on board the ship."

"Understood," Picard shouted back. He turned away to gather his bearings. _Figure out the priority and act, Jean-Luc._ "Damn," he muttered.

T'Pel looked at him questioningly.

"I said _damn_ ," he shouted in irritation. Then he sighed and returned his attention to the door. "Lieutenant, uh..."

"Daniels, sir," the voice responded.

"Daniels, we're going to cut through the door."

"Okay sir, we'll stay clear."

Picard turned to look at T'Pel and shouted, "When you said you had sealed the door, I had no idea you were so thorough." The door controls were a blackened mess and there was a raised bubble of melted metal and other materials around the edge of the door. "Is there any other way out for the away team?"

"I do not believe so," said the Vulcan evenly. Somehow she managed to keep her tone free from emotion while still yelling at him from just a few feet away.

This was going to take a long time using only one phaser as a cutting tool. On the other hand, if he used the phaser at full power, he could run the risk of injuring or even killing someone on the other side of that door. "Stand back, I'm modulating my phaser for cutting," said Picard, before firing a thin beam at the door frame. Within minutes his hand was burning from the overheating phaser and sweat was dripping into his eyes. He wondered how Captain Sarna was dealing with the Tholians. They'd overstayed their welcome by at least thirty minutes, so the captain must have found a way to stall. Sarna was an unorthodox, but effective tactician. Few of the skills he was now learning from her were in Academy texts, and yet these lessons were proving invaluable.

"Your weapon is overheating, Mr. Picard," T'Pel warned him calmly. "Lower the setting to 5.75 to allow the power cell to cool."

He wanted to yell something at her about how the fact that she'd lost her phaser was the reason this was taking so long in the first place, when there was a familiar shimmer down the corridor and then the sound of running footsteps. He powered down the phaser and turned to see a small group of officers led by Commander Hanson, racing toward them.

"What's going on?" Hanson demanded. "Where's Zev? She was supposed to be with you, Picard."

Picard shook his head and tapped his helmet. "Can't hear you, sir." He hooked his thumb at the smoking door. "CMO Gavin, the medics and security personnel are in there. Doctor Gavin is injured, we think by weapons fire, sir," he shouted.

"You _think_? What the hell's been going on down here?"

Hanson pushed one of the security officers forward. "Get us in there! Everyone else, get the hell out of the way."

As the security personnel began working on the door, Hanson cornered Picard, virtually ignoring T'Pel. "Where's Lieutenant Commander Zev?"

Jean-Luc tried to catch his breath from the heat and exertion. "I need to go back for her, sir," he shouted. He made a move to walk past Hanson, who put a hand on his chest.

"Answer my question first. Where is she?"

Picard quickly explained, but it was clear that Hanson couldn't hear most of what he was saying. Suddenly, Hanson ripped his own helmet off of his head. "Take your helmet off," he ordered.

"Sir... environmental protocols-"

Hanson threw his own helmet down so hard that it bounced off the deck. "I don't give a _shit_ about the protocols, take your goddamn helmet off! I want a report from you, now!"

Picard unsealed his helmet with a hiss and tucked it under his arm, trying to remain cool. "Zev decided to pursue the away team's attacker and go to aid Tanek, who had engaged the attacker, sir."

"Commander, your actions may have just exposed you and Lieutenant Commander Picard to a virus," T'Pel informed Hanson.

Hanson finally turned to confront T'Pel. "So you and Tanek chased down this so-called attacker?"

"That is correct," said T'Pel.

"So everyone is trying to play the hero today, is that right?"

T'Pel managed to appear condescending even inside her helmet. "Vulcans do not _play_...sir."

Hanson's face was now almost purple. "T'Pel, stay here and take charge of the area. Wait here for my return, am I clear? I don't want anymore Vulcan heroics... We're not in the clear to beam out yet, the captain flooded the area with tetryons, which made the Tholians retreat, but our subspace systems are going haywire."

"That must be why the communicators are dead," said Jean-Luc.

Hanson grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go and find them. You," he waved down a medic. "We need you too."

* * *

At some point, as they jogged through the dark corridors, Hanson seemed to reconsider his decision to remove his helmet and clicked it back into place.

Jean-Luc did the same and was immediately disturbed by the sound of his own elevated breathing. "Over here, sir!"

The door that had been held temporarily shut by T'Pel's tricorder was gone, as was the tricorder, which had exploded, having been overworked.

The lights flickered inside the dark room, as Hanson pulled his phaser and took a halting step forward. There was no sign of an attacker or any pink fog, but two humanoid shapes could be seen not far from each other at the far end of the room. Picard, despite himself, called out to Zev, but there was no response. The medic hurried past him and was kneeling next to one still form. As he grew closer he saw that it was Zev's unmistakably tall slender frame. She was unconscious and a film of dark blue, almost black blood covered her face. An incredible rage filled him, tempered only by guilt as he rushed to her side. The medic ignored him, moving quickly to assess the situation, while Hanson moved to check on the unconscious scientist, Tanek who was propped up on the floor with his back against the wall. "He's alive," Commander Hanson yelled back over his shoulder. Tanek suddenly jerked up, and Hanson backpedaled, nearly crashing to the floor himself. Tanek got to his feet, as Hanson watched the Vulcan suspiciously. Tanek took one step, then nearly fell over. A thin stream of green blood trickled from his jet black hairline, down over his forehead.

Hanson grabbed the scientist around the waist, encouraging him to lean on Hanson's stocky, broad shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"Yes," said Tanek, appearing to quickly regain his bearings.

Picard, meanwhile assisted the medic to stretch Zev out on an anti-gravity stretcher. He marveled at how light she was. "Will she live?" he heard himself say.

The medic nodded. "The head wound looks worse than it is. But she needs sickbay."

Feeling quietly elated at this news, Picard stood up and checked his tricorder. "No sign of any hostiles," he reported.

"Communicators are back on," Hanson observed, walking over to Jean-Luc. "That means we can get the hell out of this ghost ship. Captain's worked it out." Seeing that Hanson was struggling somewhat with the height difference between himself and the willowy Tanek, Picard stepped in on Tanek's other side, to help him walk.

The medic activated the stretcher, which lifted off of the ground slowly to waist height and then self-propelled ahead of him.

* * *

When they rejoined the others, Picard was shocked by Doctor Gavin's sickly pallor. She was conscious, but obviously in considerable pain."How are you, doctor?" One of the security men had been leaning down to check her but moved aside as he approached. She grabbed his hand tightly and squeezed. "What an idiotic question, I'm absolutely horrible Picard," she responded, biting her bottom lip, and attempting to sit up straight. "Actually, it could be worse, but getting shot through the shoulder is never recommended."

"What exactly happened?" Hanson stood there now with his hands on his hips, while medics attended to Tanek and Zev, preparing them for transport.

"Once I'm back in the comfort of my sickbay with some proper pain relief, you can interrogate me then, Commander," Gavin snapped.

Uninterested in getting in the middle of an argument, Jean-Luc turned away. That was when he noticed another motionless body lying on the floor of the small lab. He approached, but Gavin called out to him. "Sadly, Picard, that man is dead. Murdered in his own lab it seems...I scanned him before that madman attacked us."

Picard flashed back to the dead woman in the large laboratory, and a wave of revulsion hit him. He could have sworn he saw the body twitch. He doubled over, afraid he would be sick and then fell to his knees. He had the strangest sensation, and an image of his father on his deathbed entered his mind. He shut his eyes hoping the dizziness would cease, but when he opened them, the dead body was not just moving, but leaping for him. Now he could see the face clearly, and it was his father. The body grabbed him around his neck with wiry fingers and squeezed. _"Tell that bitch Sarna she's next!_ " It screamed into his face before slumping over. Picard thrust the body off of him and scampered backward. The last thing he saw was Hanson's face peering down at him before he fell unconscious.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"We need to seriously talk about Lieutenant Commander Picard's report about what he saw down on that ship. I'm not gonna lie, Cynthia, your decision to clear him for duty worries me." JP Hanson leaned back against the couch in the captain's ready room, taking a sideways glance toward Captain Sarna, who remained motionless at her desk. In fact, she had spoken only minimally since Hanson and Gavin finished debriefing her following their return from the derelict freighter.

Cynthia Gavin, meanwhile was as animated as ever, despite still recovering from her recent serious injuries. "Picard had minimal physical injuries and assured me that he's ready to get back to work. Would you have preferred he _lie_ about what he saw, Jeff?"

"Frankly yes," shot back Commander Hanson. "He said he saw his dead father, for God's sake. He was hallucinating!"

Gavin laughed, and then seemed to regret it, massaging her sore shoulder. "Jeff, if Picard was hallucinating, then we _all_ were. I know what I saw...and heard," she gave Captain Sarna a very focused look and noticed that the captain, who had been quiet for several minutes, looked almost completely disconnected from the conversation. Cynthia Gavin had seen that look before, and it left her unsettled.

Captain Sarna now was well aware of the reports from the freighter, which had turned out to be something of a traveling laboratory. Everyone on board was dead before the Stargazer crew had arrived; everyone, that is, except for the killer, accompanied by the pink fog the Stargazer crew had been ordered to track down.

"I heard the threat to the captain. I'm still not sure what I saw," admitted Hanson.

Sarna finally spoke. "Should we assume that...this collective hallucination, or alternatively a man rising from the dead to strangle one of my officers, was caused by the presence of that fog?"

"The so-called fog was seen by the away team at several points on board that ship. Yet no one, not even the deceased crew showed any sign of having succumbed to the kinds of diseases found to have infected the one hundred and ninety-nine people who died down on the Gallo colony-which Starfleet would apparently prefer me to conclude was caused by this pink fog-"

"Which you seem very resistant to doing," Sarna interrupted dryly.

Cynthia Gavin raised her chin stubbornly. "I tried to capture a sample of the fog, Captain and my tricorder came up with absolutely nothing. It was just as elusive when we were down on Namib One. The fact that this fog was seen near Gallo just before the colonists succumbed to a myriad of familiar illnesses, all of which are treatable with conventional medicines, only shows that its presence is so far purely coincidental. There is no actual evidence that the fog entity is responsible for the deaths of the Gallo inhabitants."

"I'm not as certain as you of that fact, Doctor. What I do know is that Finnegan was the only survivor from the Gallo colony and that Finnegan is no colonist..."

"What do you think he was doing on Gallo, sir?"

Sarna looked directly at her second in command. "I don't know, J.P. But I happen to know that Finnegan has a connection to this cloud. In fact, I now believe I've encountered this thing before myself."

"Gabby, why the hell didn't you say anything about this before?" Dr. Gavin sat forward suddenly and then steadied herself on the edge of the couch, looking quite pale. "Ow!" She caught her breath and gradually regained a healthier color.

Sarna got up swiftly and moved to sit down on the edge of her desk. "Are you alright?"

Cynthia Gavin looked up, noting the captain's recently detached gaze had changed, and her brow was knitted together with concern.

"Yes...the analgesic is wearing off and I've no one to blame but myself." She took in Sarna's slight smile and found that it both comforted and irritated her. She hugged herself protectively. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The captain raised her slim eyebrows. "I was just wondering how my chief medical officer could possibly have cleared herself for duty so soon after being nearly killed just hours ago."

"I'm fine," said Gavin indignantly.

"Of course you are," Sarna said mildly, but her calm seemed to anger Gavin further.

"You have a hell of a lot of nerve to question my judgment, Captain, when you know that Finnegan is out to murder you, and you continue to operate as though you are not at risk!"

Sarna shook her head and looked away. "To answer your question about why I didn't say anything sooner, you both had enough information about Finnegan and my history with him, to know that he has reason to want to kill me. I've never tried to hide that."

Gavin sat back with a groan and covered her face with her hands. When she dropped her hands, she was still clearly upset. "I suppose your recent honesty is meant to comfort us?"

JP Hanson cleared his throat, uncomfortable with playing referee, but he was aware that he was sometimes required to fill that role with these two officers. "Getting back to my point...I want Picard off of mission command for Namib." He wasn't prepared for how quickly Sarna's mood turned before he realized his mistake.

Arms crossed, she leaned down intently. "You _want_ him off the lead? Why? And don't tell me it's because he broke protocol down on the freighter, Number One, because the only person who broke a clear protocol was you when you took off your helmet and ordered Picard to do so as well, thereby endangering the both of you."

"Did you see T'Pel's report? She took off her helmet as well, sir."

"Actually, all we know is that T'Pel was exposed. She claims she didn't actually remember removing it," Gavin said.

"My p _oint_ is, J.P., that unless you're trying to convince me to scrub you from the mission too, it's not in your interest to point fingers at Picard this time," continued Sarna. "I'm satisfied with my crew's actions down on the freighter, and that should be enough for you."

The emphasis on the word "crew" was unmistakable. Sarna had not yet mentioned Tanek, but she didn't need to, for Hanson to figure out that she wasn't happy with the visiting Vulcan exobiologist so far. Not only had he engaged in risky, perhaps questionable conduct on board the freighter, but he'd also refused to provide a report following his return with the rest of the team, leaving many of his activities on board the freighter a mystery.

Hanson took a big gulp of tepid coffee and tried to keep his hand from shaking. It was no use badmouthing Picard to the captain, she clearly believed in the man's abilities almost to a fault, but Hanson knew he wouldn't be able to let this one drop. "Now that the three of us have been exposed, sir, we could compromise the mission. It's risky to leave him as away team lead when he could suddenly fall ill."

"Cynthia's cleared you, Picard, and T'Pel for duty...right Cynthia?"

"That's correct...all three of you tested negative for any pathogens. Unfortunately, you're correct, Commander, in that I can't guarantee you won't fall ill. If exposure to that pink cloud is all it takes, none of us who transported to the freighter can be fully cleared."

Sarna looked up at the ceiling. "We beamed over to that ship as a rescue mission and discovered the entire crew dead and the presence of pink fog. The freighter's in-flight plan showed that it was headed for the Namib moon, just as we are. I need a healthy crew, but I also need to travel to Namib and take care of this situation."

"What exactly do _you_ plan on taking care of, captain?" Gavin asked tightly. "Why does it always need to be a personal vendetta, when it comes to you?"

"Wait a minute," Hanson jumped out of his chair and began to pace with a look of confusion on his face "Sir, are you going on the away team mission?"

Knowing she'd all but promised Hanson earlier that she would skip the Namib mission, Gabriela Sarna was unmoved by the criticism. She appreciated the opinions of her officers, but ultimately, she often made decisions which she did not always choose to explain or justify. Seeing Hanson and Gavin in agreement for once, was interesting. Gavin was right; this problem with Finnegan was part of a murky history that of the Stargazer crew, only Gavin was aware. "Let's move this conversation to the main conference room," she said with careful evasion. "Zev and Eneko will be attending via holo conference from sickbay, and I'm anticipating a thrilling report from Mr. Tanek."

* * *

When Jean-Luc's station at the helm began to flash blue, he knew it was time to attend a meeting in the main conference. Following a somewhat harrowing experience during which he had lost consciousness, he had regained his poise somewhat but found himself dreading the upcoming meeting. Even more disturbing were his feelings of guilt regarding Zev's injuries, which he continued to reassure himself were less serious than they had appeared. He nodded hello as Vigo approached ready to replace him, and froze only momentarily when he saw Commander Hanson exit the captain's ready room, only to engage quickly in conversation with Lieutenant Marx who was posted at the helm. Marx was apparently pleased with whatever feedback Hanson was giving him, in fact, as Hanson turned to go, Marx was beaming from ear to ear. Picard felt a twinge of something, and angrily he recognized it as jealousy. He paused, allowing Hanson to head off of the bridge down an adjoining hallway, leading to the conference room. As he followed at a safe distance, Captain Sarna and Doctor Gavin burst from the ready room, continuing an argument as they walked. He had wanted to ask the captain how she had outsmarted the Tholians, but the timing was obviously not right.

"You said you heard Finnegan's voice threatening to murder me-"

"And you don't believe me," Gavin snapped.

"I question how you would even know his voice. You never met Finnegan because I-"

"Because you always protected me from the truth? Not well enough. Perhaps there are some details about your previous life that you are conveniently forgetting, Captain."

"I can see that you are still upset about this, Cynthia..."

Cynthia Gavin turned to see that Picard was walking a respectful distance behind them, before turning her attention back to Sarna. "Can you? So that means our conversation is over, now. Am I dismissed, Captain?"

"Yes," Sarna said, watching with some relief as Gavin sped off down the corridor.

She sighed and glanced at Picard, slowing so that he could catch up. He expected the Captain to say something clever, but they simply walked on in silence.

* * *

Twenty-year-old Beverly Howard tried the subspace link-up again, to no avail. Considering giving up, or throwing the communicator against the wall. She had been up for three nights straight, and she needed to tell Walker, or yell at him, or at least talk to him. Unfortunately for her, Walker had disappeared two days ago, after demanding to hear everything she could remember about her last days on the Orpheus research station. As the memories flooded back she was having some trouble making well-reasoned decisions. The receiver was not accepting visual input, but after a few more irritating seconds, the connection went through. She held the communicator up, just as the connection as lost again. "Damn it!" She slapped the communicator against her thigh and then reached into a small bag to pull out a medical tricorder-recently borrowed from one of her favorite instructors. She typed a message into the small keypad. "

 _Walker, I tried to reach you, but you've disappeared again. If you get this message, please call me. I need to know the truth about what happened to my parents. I'm traveling to Luna tomorrow. The only way I'm going to get the answers I need is to go to the moon, back to Orpheus again. Love, Bev."_


End file.
